The Price of Pepperoni
by jaxink
Summary: When Donnie develops an interesting idea for an experiment, Mikey becomes his fortunate test subject. Or is that unfortunate? Craziness is guaranteed. First place for BEST COMEDY in the 2005 TMNT Fanfic Competition.
1. Getting Prepared

Disclaimer: Didn't you all hear? I don't own TMNT.

_Note: This fic. is intended to be utterly absurd and contain ridiculous amounts of good 'ol nonsense. Those with weak hearts, who are pregnant, or any other serious ailments, I advise you to read no further. You have been warned._

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Getting Prepared_

Log Entry 1

Today is the first official day of record for my new experiment. I have developed an untested theory in the my spare time, something I have plenty of since we discovered the Foot planned a little clan reunion in Key West. What's up with that?

Anyway, here's my question that needs to be tested:

What would happen if a test subject were to ingest pizza for every meal, for one month?

Now isn't that our fondest wish? To be able to consume that cheesy circle smothered in tomato sauce with toppings unimaginable sprinkled on top…Ahem, I'm getting off track. Oh shoot, I drooled on my notebook…

Thus I present my hypothesis:

If a turtle were to consume a form of pizza for every meal for one month, then he would bring utter doom to his health.

The only problem now is to conduct the experiment…I shall need to compile a list of necessary items to test this scientific hypothesis.

1. A willing and ready test subject.

That's a no brainer…Mikey will do it. Okay—check.

2. Proper resources, such as ingredients for pizza.

Now, where to obtain the proper funding? Plenty of scientific geniuses have had their projects come to a halt due to a lack of income. I will need to secure some potential investors. Raph and Casey will help…they'd pay anything to see Michelangelo endlessly engorge himself for an entire month. Right then—check.

3. An assistant to help keep records of the test subject's vitals, basic health factors such as weight and blood pressure, and help me form predictions along the way.

Hmm…I suppose April would be the most helpful, but I highly doubt she will want a part in this…er, type of experiment. She wouldn't be able to appreciate the finer details anyway…right. So I guess Leo is the best candidate. It will also make for interesting tensions between him and the test subject. Leo is sure to get on Mikey's case about eating so poorly. Good—check.

4. Convince parental figure/ ninja master that this project has some worth, and that it will not permanently damage Mikey in anyway.

This one shall be more difficult. Master Splinter will hardly approve…perhaps a generous bribe will help him to "look the other way", so to speak. I'll work on that one—check.

I think that covers everything. At the finish of this experiment, we will all hopefully learn something valuable. That finishes my first entry log.

Day One

Log Entry 2

Today is the commencement of Experiment Pizza. When the test subject was asked if he was willing to participate in this scientific study, I was immediately squeezed in a hug until my green skin must have tinged blue from lack of oxygen as he shouted, "Donnie, you've made my dream come true. You're the coolest scientist I know!" Considering Mikey's enthusiastic agreement to be my test subject, I'd say we're off to a solid start.

After discussing a financial aid system with Raphael and Casey, I now have a steady source of income for my project. As I predicted, they were both more than overjoyed to assist in something of this nature. Raph has also kindly volunteered to record the entire process on video. He mentioned something about being able to look back on this and laugh just as hard the first time around, as well as a mutter that sounded like "blackmail". It's actually nice to have support from my normally scientifically inept brothers.

Leo reluctantly agreed to help me gather and record the required data. The only reason I think he is joining in on the project is to make sure no one gets hurt…he shouldn't worry so much, what's the worst that could happen?

Getting Splinter to look the other way proved to be much easier than anticipated. When I mentioned I was willing to do almost anything for him to allow this experiment to happen, his eyes lit up. Ah, that reminds me. Note to self: Make a digital video recorder for Master Splinter to record all of his soaps automatically.

Now then…to fetch Michelangelo so we can take some initial stats before he begins to ingest grotesque amounts of our favorite greasy treat…


	2. The First Meal

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. But you don't have to rub it in…

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_The First Meal_

Day One_ -pt. 2 (general pov)_

"Hey, is this thing on? Stupid…hey Donnie! How do you turn it on?" Raphael asked frustrated as he shook the camera up and down looking for some sort of indication that it was operating.

Don noticed his brother's antics and rushed over putting a hand on his arm to stop him from further messing with his contraption. "Take it easy, Raph. It's on; see the little red light here? That mean's it's recording, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it," he muttered in response.

Donatello returned to his desk and continued sorting through his various charts and notes. Leo stood hunched over next to him reading over a few papers. With a quick glance at Don's notes, he gathered the scale, tape measurer, and other instruments they would need to obtain Mikey's initial information.

Raph brought the camera out in front of him and zoomed into Leo's face. "Hey Leo, is that a zit on your face?" he snickered, mocking his older brother.

A green hand flew to Leonardo's face as he frantically searched for the aforementioned spot upon his face. "Where? Where is it?" Leo panicked.

Seeing his brother in such a state of distress, Raph began doubling over with laughter. "Ha! Our Fearless Leader worried about a little zit!"

Letting out a slight chuckle, Donnie shook his head and continued organizing his materials. Leo sent a fierce glare at both of his brothers, clearly not amused.

Working the camera once more, Raph brought the camera closer to Leo's face again. "Anything else there you need to freak out about on that mug of yours, bro?" Raph questioned innocently.

Having recovered from his "episode", Leo let out a snarl and lunged for his red clad brother. "Why you…gimme that camera! Get it out of my face!"

The eldest turtle then proceeded to give chase to his meddlesome brother, Raphael laughing hysterically all the way. "Aw, c'mon, Leo…it was just a joke!" Raph shot back to his brother as he quickly made his way around obstacles in front of him around the lair lest his brother get a hold of him.

Leo simply responded by giving more speed to his stride as they flew past their sensei.

Splinter silently observed the scene unfolding before and shook his head. He muttered, "Kids…"

With that said, he took his place on the couch and prepared to enjoy his recorded soap compliments of Donatello's latest creation—their very own dvr. Reasons it was made would never be repeated from the old rat's lips…he didn't want to give people a reason to think he wasn't a responsible parent for letting his sons do as they please. But with the Foot currently out of town soaking up some rays, he was on a slight vacation, too, right?

The infernal chase previously started minutes before abruptly came to a halt as Raph bowled over Mikey as he exited his room. Trying to come to a skidding stop, Leo failed miserably and flopped onto the pile made up of his brothers.

Don came over to the collision site taking in everything with one glance, and with a stern gaze and tone he scolded, "All right, that's enough! My project isn't going to get anywhere if we don't get started."

His brothers all pushed themselves off the ground, and Leo and Mike hung their heads in guilt. Raphael, however, was nonchalantly brushing himself off. As he noticed the look his scientific brother gave him, he threw his arms up into the air and shouted, "What! It's not my fault. Leo started it…"

"I did not. You're such a liar."

"You did too! If you hadn't chased me, we could have gotten started already."

"I wouldn't have chased you if you had kept the camera out of my face like I asked you to. Telling me I have zit that doesn't exist has hardly anything to do with this experiment."

"Who are you to say what is relevant to this experiment?"

Donnie just shook his head, a perfect imitation of his sensei followed as he muttered, "Kids…" He chose to walk away at that moment and proceeded to set up his progression chart by his lab.

As Leo and Raph continued to argue, Mikey interrupted, "Hey, Leo…"

Frustrated and still angry, the blue clad turtle snapped, "What is it?"

"Raph's right…is that a blackhead I see on your forehead?" Mike inquired, squinting his eyes at his brother.

Releasing a less than masculine scream, Leo's hands once more swept over his face in search of the hated pore. "Where is it? Where is it?"

As Mike's face contorted and scrunched, he let out a string of guffaws at his elder brother. "You're right, Raph. Leo doesn't take good care of his complexion," Michelangelo replied. Raph let his own laughs out as he clutched at his stomach from the strain on his muscles.

Leo's eyes widened in recognition that he had been fooled—twice now. "That's it! You're both dead!"

As the eldest readied his charge at his younger brothers, a voice was heard from the couch.

Without even glancing away from the screen, Splinter warned, "There shall be no killing of your brothers, Leonardo." Leo's shoulders and head considerably drooped at this as Raph and Mikey shared a glance of victory. "Now then, all of you return to aiding your brother with his little science fair project."

Donatello groaned at his sensei's choice of words. "Master Splinter, it's a highly scientific experiment to aid in the testing of my hypothesis."

Looking over his shoulder briefly, Splinter matter-of-factly replied, "That's what I said. Your little science fair project."

Throwing the papers in currently in his grasp into the air, Donnie heavily sighed and continued to berate his brothers. "Let's go guys, this isn't going to get done by itself you know!"

With various mutters, and profanities from Raph, they all gathered around Don's set-up in his lab.

A program that would keep the records of Mikey's stats sat open on the computer screen, and next to it sat Donatello's logbook. Taped to the dry erase board in front of them was a chart that would display the orange clad turtle's progress.

"All right, let's get started," Don began. "Mikey, please step onto the scale so we can obtain your initial weight."

"Let's see, you writing this down, Donnie? Good, okay…weight: 180," Leo stated as he observed the reading on the scale. "Step off the scale, Mike. Let's measure your height."

Donnie handed Leo the tape measurer and readied his hand to write down the answer. "That's 5' 2", Don."

Raph held the camera, recording all of these proceedings and was steadily becoming disinterested in the so-called "scientific aspect" of this project. With a frustrated stomp of his foot much akin to a tantrum thrown by a five-year-old, he whined, "When do we get to watch Mikey make himself sick with pizza?"

"When we're done doing this!" retorted Donnie, hunching himself once more over his notebook.

"Raph's got a good point," Mikey said, as Leo took his blood pressure. "When do I get to eat? I'm starvin'."

"It's not like you can't wait five more minutes," Leo offhandedly commented.

"True," Mikey answered with a resigned sigh.

Donatello lifted his head up from his work and smiled. "Now we can observe Mikey with his first meal."

"All right!" yelled Mikey in excitement as he bolted from the chair he had been sitting in and made his way to the kitchen in a flash just as the buzzer went off on the oven signaling that the pizza they had made earlier was finally ready.

Raph motioned for his brothers to quickly follow their famished little brother. "Hurry, we need to actually catch some of this. He very may well finish it before we get to the kitchen!"

They made a beeline for the kitchen and found the grotesque sight of Michelangelo stuffing an entire slice of pizza with glistening cheese practically dripping off of it. Raph wordlessly turned on the camera again and recorded the horrific scene in front of him. Don and Leo stood speechless as Mikey inhaled the entire pizza in fewer than two minutes.

As Mikey finished off every last crumb from the pan, he began licking the grease from his fingers and let out an ungodly belch. "Dude, this is gonna be awesome. When's the next meal?"

Don and Leo shared a sickened glance; they were already practically deciding they were off pizza for the rest of their life as Raph's eyes gleamed with the knowledge that this was only the beginning of his annoying little brother's demise.


	3. It's Just the Beginning

Disclaimer: Let me spell it for you… I d-o-n-'t o-w-n T-M-N-T. 's-i-g-h'

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_It's Just the Beginning_

Day 2

Log Entry 3

Please excuse me for my delayed update to my logbook. I found myself occupied with much less pleasant things. After watching Michelangelo scarfing down a disgusting amount of pizza for breakfast, and then finding myself part of the audience again at lunch and a repeated encore performance at dinner, I unfortunately found myself spending a large amount of time becoming better acquainted with an old white porcelain friend for the latter part of the evening. My brothers did not fail to mention that they were irked by the sounds of me retching.

The experiment is fully underway, and I would like to have Mikey do another weigh in at the end of the week. Later this afternoon, Leo and I plan to make some predictions as to which direction my theory is heading in…though I do believe we both know what the results will be.

Raphael has never been more entertained or cheerful in his life. It's quite frightening really. He always has a smile on his face and thoroughly enjoys watching Mikey blatantly clogging his arteries. He's even started to…dare I write it? It hardly seems plausible…getting along with Leo. I know, I know. But my eyes don't lie. You'll just have to take my word for it. They've found some common ground for the time being. Raph encourages Mike endlessly, while Leo wholeheartedly protests the less than nutritious diet his little brother has taken on. While I personally guessed that they would be arguing, they seem to each have a strange understanding. Perhaps it's because they are both trying to help me. I haven't a clue.

This very morning, after Mikey's fourth meal of only pizza, I began writing down the ingredients my orange clad brother fancies upon his cheesy pies.

Thus far, his toppings have included:

Sausage

Olives

Green peppers

Mushrooms

I have no doubt that the list will continue to grow, and the type of topping will surely vary and become stranger than I can imagine.

To give you an idea of what these typical meals are becoming like, I will describe one to you in detail. Hence I present, the events of this morning on Day Two.

It started off well enough; we all rose at an early hour to gather for morning training. Leo instructed for us to line up, but Mikey graciously reminded his elder brother that he is exempt from training for the next thirty days. Begrudgingly, Leo muttered and turned to wait for Master Splinter.

Surprisingly, sensei was late to the dojo—something that had yet to occur in our young teenage lives. He seemingly dragged himself from his quarters as his ears drooped wearily and a tail hung lifeless behind him. I pondered upon the fatigued appearance of our ninjitsu master, and then I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, which only contributed to his less than attentive state.

With a slight yawn hidden behind a paw, Master Splinter just shrugged as Leo protested Mikey not being a part of practice while Raph and I once again reminded him that he had agreed to this project already. And so, our morning exercises began.

Splinter was clearly not present in mind during our practice, as I observed his eyes occasionally darting towards the television sets when it hit me. When I had been…er, busy in the bathroom the previous evening, I vaguely recalled hearing the soft sounds of the television into the late hours. Tsk. Master Splinter must have been up late watching satellite television…another courtesy I had placed upon our entertainment system for sensei so he would allow my experiment to take place.

Quickly dismissing us and making a beeline for the couch, we were left dumbstruck and abandoned in the dojo in a matter of seconds by Splinter. After looking at my brothers with a questioning look, we all shook our heads and made our way to the kitchen. Excitedly, Mikey jumped up from his place on the floor where he had been absently perusing through a comic during practice and sprinted for the meal that awaited him.

Raphael ran after him, shouting at me to tell him where the camera was so he wouldn't miss a moment of the "action". Leo walked on ahead as I grabbed some charts from my desk.

As I entered the kitchen, the horror of another episode of "Mikey and the Disappearing Pizza" reared its ugly head…I silently wondered what I had gotten myself into.


	4. I Think I'm Being Scarred

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. I'm running out of excuses as to why I don't…

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_I Think I'm Being Scarred_

Day 2 _(cont.)_

Log Entry 3 _continued_

Mikey made himself entirely comfortable as he settled into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. In front of him sat a mushroom-topped pizza, steam rising off it as it cooled, fresh from out of the oven. I must admit, the lingering, tantalizing scent of the dreadful thing made my mouth water, and my stomach growl in agonizing hunger.

Leo sat nonchalantly at the table as well, trying to ignore the gorge fest that was about to commence not three feet away from him as he read the newspaper. I knew his attempts block out the scene before him would be futile; even if Leonardo couldn't see Mikey, hearing him would not be a problem. And must I ask if you've ever heard the way my little brother chews?

Excitedly with an ever-present smirk on his face, Raph snickered at his own little thoughts of what was to come in a matter of mere seconds. A little after lunch yesterday, my hotheaded brother managed to master the fine art of camera work. Yes, Raph is indeed turning into quite the director. He even told me to move my chair during dinner because I was blocking his light and thus ruining the perfect shot of Mike shoveling food down his throat. I think he's getting a little too serious about documenting everything…

I sat myself down, away from Raph so I wouldn't disturb the frame he wanted to capture, and I began jotting down a few notes myself.

And then the onslaught began…

After hastily tying a napkin around his neck, Michelangelo scooped up the first slice of his personally made pizza that was attuned to his exact wants and preferences. As he raised the piece from the pan, glossy cheese separated from the rest of the slices in melting strings, as if refusing to part from their fellow cheese brethren still attached to the pizza on the table.

Mike's hands immediately became slick and shiny as they reflected the light in the room. He brought the slice ever closer to his waiting taste buds to savor every delectable flavor his creation had to offer; as he did this, a glistening droplet of grease dripped onto the table.

To this, Mikey sickeningly responded by licking the top layer of the slice, slowly lapping up the formed puddles of excess glittering fat. I put a hand to my stomach, feeling queasy at the appalling sight before me.

To my left, I heard Raph let out a sadistic chuckle…clearly enjoying the fact that he would be able to shove this dreadful display back into Mike's face one day…it must be that—because he certainly isn't laughing due to the wonderful knowledge that he's part of a scientific experiment.

On my right, Leo paused taking a glance over the paper to observe the seen around him. He must have regretted this action because he paled as Mikey took his first bite of that grotesque slice.

Several bites later, Mikey's horrendous eating habits began presenting themselves. With glistening, slick hands he reached for another piece, quickly shoving it into his mouth. Translucent juices gushed from the sides of his mouth as he chewed, oblivious to the grease running down his chin.

Did I mention the way he chews? His jaw goes up and down for what seems like an eternity gnawing and hashing around bits of crust, cheese, and mushrooms.

**Chew.**

**Chew.**

**Chew.**

And this is all accompanied by that Shell-forsaken smacking.

**Smack.**

**Smack.**

**Smack.**

**Smack. **

You can't begin to imagine the torture of the two together. Behind his newspaper, I saw Leo beginning to cringe at the frightening sounds as he desperately tried to block it all out by rustling and turning the pages.

**Chew.**

**Smack. Chew.**

**Smack. Smack. Chew. Smack.**

**Chew. Chew. Chew.**

**Chew. Smack.**

For goodness sake, why doesn't he just swallow already?

Mikey's mouth hangs openwide enough for flies to get in! In addition, we're left to stare horrified at the sloshing of disfigured food in his trap. He's like a cow! Not only in his appetite…but the chewing…oh the chewing…the unbearable smacking.

The food just rolls around and around and around and around...it's a wonder it doesn't fall out...

With another record-breaking consumption of now the most deplorable food item, in my humble opinion, Mikey was left whimpering for more. He then proceeded to lick the entire pizza pan free of crumbs and savory spots of grease.

Sighing, I continued to write down observations of Mikey's behavior during meals…wondering if he would ever grow tired of his precious pizza. Mike bolted up right again and mentioned something about going to watch pay-per-view wrestling with sensei. Leo rolled his eyes and left to meditate while Raph turned off the camera and placed it beside him on the table.

After a minute of hysterical laughing from Raph, he grabbed the camera and said he was going to Casey's to share the "booty—which I can only assume is the footage he had just captured—as he left the lair still chuckling.

I think I'm slowly being scarred for life…


	5. Oh the Agony

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. Woe is me…

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Oh the Agony_

Day 3 _(general pov)_

Master Splinter twitched his nose and wiggled his whiskers as a mysterious aroma wafted its way toward him. Slowly opening heavy eyelids, he dragged a paw down his face and shook his head in a halfhearted attempt to wake up. He silently mused upon the fact that he still had not moved from the couch since the previous morning after practice in the dojo.

As the ninjitsu master stood, wincing at the cracks and groans his bones made in stiff protest to their new movement, he took another sniff at the air. It smelled like…oh…right…pizza. What else? Splinter vaguely recalled his sons partaking in some experiment for Donatello. What was it again? Ach, he couldn't remember…it couldn't have been that important.

After a brief moment of stretching to get his blood stirring again, Splinter reseated himself on the couch preparing to become lost in the waves of television programming and advertisements that satellite television had to offer. He picked up the remote and began "channel surfing", as he believed it was called. Yes, he had become very swift in his execution of pushing the arrows to change the channel indeed—a true master of the remote.

_

* * *

__Later that day_

"What are you doing?" Leo asked his little brother as he pulled the newly baked pizza out of the oven. The sight of the hot pizza made the blue clad turtle cringe, internally swearing never to touch a slice of the shell-awful thing ever, ever again. He had started having nightmares…ones with mashed pizza bits falling out of his brother's wide trap…

Mikey just offered him a wide smile. "What does it look like I'm doin'? I'm making lunch for me. Today's topping…sweet, sweet pineapple!"

Leo's eye began to twitch and forced himself to look away. "Right…"

"Wanna join me, dude?" Mike offered as he lifted up a greasy slice sprinkled with slightly charred, yet tangy yellow pieces of pineapple.

A green hand flew to Leonardo's mouth, and he sprinted with ninja swiftness to revisit Donnie's old buddy. Yes, that's right. Leo became quite acquainted with the white fiend after last night's performance by Michelangelo at dinner. Oh what an unpleasant sight that had been…

Mikey shrugged his shoulders and stated, "Well, it's his loss." With great expectations of his cheesy creation and anticipation, he tore a monstrous piece of pizza goodness into his mouth.

After a few hardy bites, Mike did something unexpected. He—gasp—dropped the slice onto the plate in front of him and wearily groaned. Placing a hand on his stomach, the orange clad turtle pondered upon why his bottomless pit of a stomach was ominously gurgling.

While Mikey took his pause from eating, Donatello walked into jot down some quick notes of the mealtime.He was expecting it to be very similar to all of Michelangelo's previous meals. Looking up at his little brother as he took a seat at the table, Donnie was met with a surprising sight.

"What's the matter, Mike? Aren't you hungry?" questioned Don with curiosity etched on his features. He silently wondered why Mikey wasn't engorging himself and what the cause of this change in appetite was. "It's not like you to leave a pizza out for more than five minutes."

Mike bit back another groan. "I dunno. It just kinda happened. I was all excited to bite into this delicious, scrumptious slice and BAM! I don't exactly have the munchies right now."

"Interesting. Are you really not hungry, or do you just not want pizza at the moment?" inquired Don, absently writing down bits into his logbook.

"Dude, don't get me wrong…I love pizza! But I just ain't feelin' the cravin'," Mikey responded to his brainy brother.

Donatello thought about it for a moment, trying to analyze it from all views. And with a quick snap, that infamous light bulb went off in his head. "I know what the problem is…you're facing the third day hump."

"Huh?"

The purple clad turtle shook his head and rolled his eyes. Further explaining, he continued, "The third day hump. It's like if you were to quit smoking…studies say that it gets easier after the third day after quitting. If you can finish your meals of pizza for today, you'll have no problem the rest of the experiment…what the…?"

Don trailed off as his little brother had already been ignoring him as he chomped through another defenseless pizza. With a disgusting mouth full, Mike managed to get out something muffled by the food sloshing around. "Did you say something, bro?"

Shaking his head once more, Don left his brother and his horrendous eating habits in the kitchen. "Okay, scratch the third day hump theory for Mikey. Guess he's able to eat pizza all the time, any time. It was probably just a little indigestion. Ick," he concluded.

Making his way over to his desk and workspace, Donatello found his computer to be in use. Raphael sat in his swivel chair chuckling to himself as he spun the chair around and around.

"Ahem…" Don cleared his throat, effectively pausing Raph's childish actions. "Just what do you think you're doing, Raph?"

Raph looked at his brother and merely smirked. "I'm burning a couple of DVDs."

Don gave him a questioning look. "Of what?" He was afraid of the answer he might receive…

"What else? Mikey stuffin' himself." Raph pulled a freshly burned disc out of the drive and put it into a case.

"Whatever for?" Donatello asked as the red clad turtle placed the case upon the growing stack beside the computer.

"I ran out of space on the camera memory thing, so I thought I'd transfer the files onto some blank discs. How else am I supposed to keep tapin' Mike?" He stood and unplugged the camera from its connection to the computer. "Hey, did he happen to eat lunch yet?"

Suddenly remembering the sight he had just left, Don grimaced and nodded. "Yeah, you just missed it."

Raph stomped his foot and picked up the camera. "Darn. All right then, I'll just have to catch him at dinner."

And with that, he left to go to his room. Don sat himself down in his computer chair and picked up one of the burned DVD cases. The date and time of the events on it were clearly, and yes, neatly labeled. "Wow, Raph really did a good job," he muttered to himself.

Don reorganized some of his belongings and smiled to himself as he heard retching from the direction of the bathroom…unmistakably Leo. And if that wasn't enough, he heard other noises coming from near the televisions…

"All right, thank you, Vanna," said Pat Sajack as his voice drifted to Donnie's ears.

He shouted across the lair to his sensei, "Aw, c'mon Master Splinter! Not Wheel of Fortune again!"


	6. Why Me?

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. 'goes off to cry'

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Why Me_

Day 4

Log Entry 4

It is at a late hour that I sit writing this at my desk. My only company is my desk lamp shedding a feeble amount of light over my logbook. I am utterly exhausted. This day has been a nightmare beyond compare. The stress is unbearable…I think my family has lost it. And it's so early in the game…

Let me recount the day for you…

After another less than enthusiastic practice this morning in the dojo, led by Leonardo, we all went about our business. I left for the kitchen with Mikey to observe yet another slaughtering of a defenseless pizza, Raph went to Casey's with his burned DVDs, and Leo remained in the dojo. Where was Master Splinter? Yes, you guessed it…still in front of the television.

After eating my breakfast then losing it again shortly after Mike's "performance", I planned to set out to work on a program on my computer that would help chart my little brother's progress.

Mike exited to his room to continue with his other part of the experiment—being lazy. When the project began, we clearly decided that Mikey would not partake in any type of physical activity. That included: excessive walking, practices, and patrols. Michelangelo is handling the disappointment of being excluded from these activities very well, as it can be expected. But I believe he's taken it to new extremes. Sitting in his room all day reading comics and eating pizza for every meal has become an easy routine for him to fall victim to. It may be difficult for him to part from these less than healthy and lazy actions. I think we just may be spoiling him…

As I made my way to my computer desk, Leo halted me as he stepped into my path. He had some questions for me concerning my project. I think that I saw that little vein in his forehead start throbbing while his eye twitched in irritation. I don't recall Leo ever being so upset before.

Leo's dilemma: Mikey. I had predicted that tensions would arise between Leo and myself in areas of health for our little brother. And here they were…as my older brother began berating me.

_Are you sure you want to go through with this?_

_I can't take it anymore!_

_He only eats, sleeps, and reads comics._

_I cannot spend another minute hunched over the toilet due to his disgusting eating habits._

_We can't ignore that he's getting lazy and out of shape._

_What if the Foot comes back from Florida during the next month?_

_His ninjitsu skills are going to start deteriorate._

_You're part of the reason Master Splinter has lost his mind watching television in ungodly amounts! And when he does take his attention off the television for a measly five seconds, he's asking for more chip dip!_

_This can't go on!_

I, however, left for the rest of the conversation…but Leo didn't seem to notice because he kept ranting for about another ten minutes before he realized I wasn't listening anymore as I sat at my computer typing away. When Leonardo had finally stopped, I heard him mutter, "All right, fine. I don't care what happens…"

Later I discovered Leo spent the entirety of the day in the dojo working out and pushing himself to exhaustion. Perhaps he has convinced himself that if he exercises enough, it will make up for what Mikey doesn't do. Poor Leo…so deranged at the moment. He fell asleep hours ago in his room.

The only other times I saw Mikey today…hm…when he traveled to the kitchen and when he went to the bathroom. The rest of the time was spent alone in his room…obviously relishing his newfound laziness. At least he's enjoying himself.

I finished working on my program sometime around four o'clock, so I went to watch some television with Master Splinter. As I sat on the couch next to him, he barely even registered that I was there. He sat completely memorized by the flashing screen in front of him…it's a wonder his eyes haven't fallen out from staring at it for so long. I didn't stay there long…I can't stand the Game Show Network; it's sensei's favorite new channel. He kept shouting at all of the contestants on the shows, calling them incompetent and idiots…even after I told him that they couldn't hear him. Splinter didn't seem to care because he kept right on shouting.

The highlight of my day…or ultimate event that made this day truly as terrible as it was…April stopped by for a little visit.

Now, don't get me wrong…I love April to pieces…but jeez, she was not happy with me at all. I never knew she had such a good right hook.

To summarize, April stormed into the lair and called out for me. I walked up to her, ready to give her a "hello" as she clocked me on the head.

That's when the yelling started. Apparently, Raph had swung by her place with Casey earlier, and he proceeded to tell her everything that had been going on the last few days.

Raph told her about the experiment, Master Splinter's agreement (well, sort of) to it, and he made the mistake of showing her the DVDs that contained footage, so brilliantly captured on film by my brother, of Mikey eating.

And, of course, he included that it was all my idea.

As she continued showering punches on my arms and a few kicks here and there (they didn't really hurt, it was just that she did it so many times!), she scolded me for my stupidity.

_How could you come up with such a theory?_

_Are you insane, putting the health of your brother at risk?_

_I don't know how you convinced Splinter to possibly agree to something like this, but it must have been done with some underhanded tactic!_

_I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!_

_What are you thinking, Donatello? Pizza for a month!_

With one last strike to my face, she left in a huff as she mumbled about turtles and their crazy ideas. I have to say, April's lecture had been a lot harder to escape than Leo's earlier one.

So it has come to here as I write, with an ice pack over my bruising eye, that I silently wonder about my little project. I mean, it's only day four…


	7. Making Progress

Disclaimer: Plain and simple…I don't own TMNT.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Making Progress_

Day 7

Log Entry 5

Oh my, oh my. What a day it has been…

Today marks the seventh day of Experiment Pizza, and the second official weigh-in of Michelangelo. We decided to take the measurements after dinner…in fact, Raphael insisted. He wanted to be sure that our little brother managed to put on any extra weight at the last minute to further incriminate him...at least that's my guess.

Which brings me to wonder…I didn't observe any of Mikey's meals today. I'm afraid they've become a bit too much, even if it is in the name of science. Leo won't even be in the same room as Mike anymore…as if he's afraid the increasing pounds our brother is putting on will somehow rub off on him.

While I can't blame Leonardo for his wariness of being present at mealtimes, it's not as if Mikey has a disease that he might catch. Oh, I can imagine it now…Mike miraculously manages to shove a slick slice down Leo's throat. The result—Leo becomes grotesquely huge and begins eating more pizza and junk food than two of Mikey. And then I can just picture Raph…laughing his head off at the expense of another of his brothers. He'd probably say something like, "Hey Leo, don't you know all that grease and fat is going to go right to your thighs?"

Dude, my family is weird.

Anyway, back to my original point. I didn't observe any of Mikey's meals today. But I have a sneaking suspicion that Raph may have attempted to tamper with our weigh-in results today.

When Mikey was making his breakfast pizza topped with anchovies…much to his discontentment…after all, it is the one topping he does not prefer to place atop his precious circle of cheesy goodness. Raph called for Mike from the other room…I was working at my computer half paying attention to what was going on around me…and so naturally, he went to look for our hotheaded brother.

It was at this moment I decided to glance about me to see what was going on. Big mistake. There was Raphael going into the kitchen with a knife and stick of butter. Now, I didn't follow him into the kitchen to see what he did with said objects, but I can assume without a doubt that the butter ended up on the pizza. Like it needed to be any greasier!

My suspicions were further peaked at lunch when I heard Raph and Mikey's voices floating from the kitchen. Their conversation proceeded as follows:

"What topping you putting on this time, Mike?"

"I don't know. I wanna try somethin' new…any ideas, bro?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked. It just so happens that I do have a suggestion."

"And what's that, Raph?"

"Bacon bits…"

And while this is happening, I'm shaking my head in disbelief. Just what does Raph think he's trying to pull? Bacon bits? That isn't a real pizza topping.

"Sure, sounds great. I'll try anything once."

Or maybe it is…

It was between the afternoon and evening hours that I tracked down Leo in the dojo. He was doing one-armed push-ups. I rolled my eyes at my brother's new need to work out every moment of every day and asked him when he wanted to help me take down Mikey's measurements. Leo stood and grasped for my shoulder to lean on.

Taking in deep, ragged breaths, he choked out, "Anytime, Don. Just make sure it's after six…I'm going for a ten-mile run around the sewers, but I should be back before then."

And with that, he left me standing in the dojo dumbfounded. I'm beginning to become concerned with Leo's own health, in addition to Mikey's. It's not healthy to exercise that much…he's pushing himself way too hard. But as we all know, it's difficult to change Leo's mind about anything. So I figured I should talk to Master Splinter. Leonardo always listens to him. That had to make me laugh…I bet if sensei told my older brother to go join the Foot because it was what he wanted, he would.

So gathering up my courage, I joined Master Splinter on the couch. Before I could sit, I had to move a bowl of popcorn out of the way…I think sensei growled at me for touching it. Scary.

Anyway, he was watching a new channel today…something besides the Game Show Network…and for that, I am extremely grateful. But I'm not sure if the new channel he's chosen to watch 24/7 is much better. ESPN. Why you ask? Well, it is really quite simple.

Yesterday, Casey finally came down to check out where his investments were going. Raph explained to me that a DVD could only tell so much…the real thing is always better. So Casey and Raph sat entertained and in awe as they observed Mikey eating dinner last night. They are so delusional. It's starting to scare me…they even applauded when he finished. So sad…

After dinner, Casey grew frantic as he realized what time it was. He exclaimed that he was missing his game. In a panic, he dove for the couch and managed to wrench the remote free of Master Splinter's paws. That's when the beating began…

Master Splinter was furious as the remote was stolen from his clutches and extremely upset that his channel had been changed. He started to beat Casey over the head with his walking staff. Now that was funny. Raph and I somehow were able to pry sensei away from Casey and restrain him from beating the vigilante to a bloody pulp. As we held him, he started to watch the game with Casey.

Long story short, Casey has turned Master Splinter in a hockey nut. Seems impossible, right? That's what I would have originally thought…but Splinter now yells more at the television than he did when watching the Game Show Network. I woke up three times last night because of his incessant shouting.

All right, back on track here. I sat next to Master Splinter as he religiously kept his eyes glued to the television, his eyes following the movements of the skaters on the ice. Our conversation carried out something like this…

"Um, sensei, I was wondering if I might have a moment to talk to you…"

"Sure…Raphael…"

"No, Master Splinter…it's me, Donatello. Remember?"

"Huh? Oh, right…sure."

"Well, anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Leonardo. I'm worried about him."

"…"

"He's been pushing himself way too hard at practice, and his exercise is bordering on the edge of insanity."

"Yes, I see…"

"So I was hoping you could talk to him…he listens to you."

"Very well."

At this point, I was overjoyed about two things. Leo would get some sense talked into him, and Master Splinter was going to get off of the couch.

"Right after the twenty-four hour marathon of Sports Bloopers…"

Or maybe not…

I worked through dinner on my computer, preparing the charts and notebooks to write down measurements and numbers. At this point, I called for my brothers so we could get the show on the road.

As Mikey and Raph left the kitchen, I heard Mike thanking Raphael for his suggestion of putting heavily breaded bits of onion rings on his pizza for dinner—yet another indicator that Raph was up to something.

Leo dragged himself exhaustedly from his room having recently returned from his extended ten-mile run…he decided adding two miles wouldn't kill him. We had Mikey step onto the scale, as Raph stood readied with the video camera to record this particular milestone in the project. Raph looked like he was going to burst with excitement as Leo read Mikey's weight after the first week of gorging himself with pizza…his initial weight of 180 had increased to…

182!

Now, I have no idea how Mike managed to do that. We all know that he hadn't left the lair at all, and he had no problem with not exercising. He barely even left his room except to eat or watch television with Master Splinter! It just didn't make any sense. I've thought about it…maybe he just has a very high metabolism. Mikey's always eating to keep his energy up…but that's usually when he's more active. Maybe it will just take more than one week for this unhealthy diet to catch up to him…we'll see.

Leo and Mike went their separate ways as I put away my charts and notebooks for the day. I turned and found Raph still staring in disbelief. He finally lowered the camera in utter disappointment. Very quickly he recovered from this setback as he drove a fist into the wall next to him. Raph rapidly exited the room muttering under his breath about needing to try harder next time. I must say that I think Raph has been trying to increase Mikey's weight even more…

The hour grows late…I'm off to bed. But I think you'll also be glad to know that the swelling around my eye has gone down. Think April will forgive me for all of this?


	8. Les Pizzas

Disclaimer: If you think I said that I owned TMNT, do you think anyone would believe me? And just to get it out there, I do not own "Les Poissons" from Disney's "The Little Mermaid". You know the song…the one the French chef sings.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Les Pizzas_

Day 8 _(general pov)_

After the anticlimactic weigh-in of the day before, Donatello could be found at his computer trying to decipher several possibilities as to why the orange clad turtle had only gained a total of, yes…you remember, two pounds. The results had been baffling and began driving the brainy turtle to the brink of insanity…much like the one the rest of his family had already reached.

With a sigh, Donnie closed his logbook and picked up his notes. Quickly filing them in their proper places, he found it to be close to noon.

"What to do…what to do," murmured Donatello as he stood and cracked his stiff neck. Even after hours and hours of mathematical figuring and scientific guesses, he was still left with no explanation for Mikey's lack of weight gain. It just didn't make sense to him at all…the only logical reasoning was a high metabolism. Which led the purple clad turtle to wonder if it was a trait shared among his brothers and himself…but with the knowledge of what he'd have to do to test that theory, it left Don deciding he didn't want to know. He'd just continue to use his little brother as a lab rat…er, lab mouse, if he was trying to be politically correct in this household…wouldn't want to offend anyone…

Wisely deciding to keep clear of the kitchen, Don considered watching television, but immediately rethought that plan of action as he observed Master Splinter jump onto his feet and start viciously tapping the flashing screen with his walking staff. Yes, the turtles' sensei was becoming a rather avid sports fan very rapidly. At this rate, Splinter would be urging them to buy skybox tickets to see the Yankees for the entire baseball season.

"Yeesh, if I don't get out of here, I'm going to go stir crazy!" shouted Donnie, about ready to rip something apart due to the tension he felt from being around his family. "I wonder where Leo is…"

Deciding to investigate the whereabouts of his katana wielding brother, Donatello looked for him in the most obvious place first. Walking casually into the dojo, Don spotted Leo standing on one leg with his arms stretched out to his sides, and his eyes were firmly screwed shut.

Warily approaching his unmoving brother, Don cleared his throat to get his attention. "Uh, Leo? Hello? Leo…" Finding this ineffective, Donnie prepared to tap Leonardo on the shoulder, but was abruptly stopped as Leo's hand flew out and grasped his wrist.

Still balancing on one leg and his eyesremaining shut, Leo coolly asked, "What is it, Don?"

Uneasily pulling his arm back from his older brother's grasp, Donatello looked Leo up and down again analytically before responding. "I was just wondering what you were doing…and if you wanted to head topside with me to go to Casey's. We need to stock up on pizza supplies so Mikey can continue making his monstrous creations. So what _are_ you doing? Meditating or something?"

Opening his eyes, Leo half-smiled at his brainy brother. "Sort of. I made this position up last night. Isn't it cool? I call it, 'flamingo at the ready'."

With a weak laugh, Don sent him back a frightened gaze. "Um, right…cool is definitely not theword I was thinking of. Why flamingo?"

"Why not?" Leo challenged. Bringing his raised leg to the ground, he stood once more and took a step forward. "You got something against those cute pink feathered birdies? What did they ever do to you?"

'What the shell? Cute "birdies"? Something is majorly messing with Leo's head…' thought Donnie nervously.

Don took a step back as he held his hands out in front of him. "Take it easy, Leo. It was just a question. Seriously, I have nothing against flamingos."

Leo seemed to accept this and relaxed his posture as Don let out a sigh of relief. "Where'd you wanna go?"

"The surface. We need Casey to do some shopping for us," Donnie explained again as they left the dojo.

His older brother gave him an uncertain look. "Why Casey? Doesn't April usually do the shopping for us?"

Don averted his gaze and shuddered. "Yeah, usually. But Casey is gonna do it for us this time. April and I had an encounter that I would not like to talk about or take the chance of repeating."

Shrugging, Leo led the two of them to the entrance of the lair. Before leaving, he shouted, "Master Splinter, Donatello and I are going topside for a few hours. We'll be back later!"

With an offhanded wave from the couch, Splinter didn't even glance at or question his sons as they left. He only yelled in return, "Fine, fine. Whatever. But if you're going out, bring back more guacamole. I'm almost finished with what we have left!"

Shaking their heads in disbelief, Don and Leo exited the lair and headed to the surface for a little grocery shopping.

* * *

Glancing about guardedly, Raphael tiptoed to his room with a collection of items bundled in his arms. After securing the door, he sorted through his horde of mysterious bits and pieces. 

Nodding to himself, Raph was confident he had everything he needed. With an insidious chuckle, his eyes gleamed with the task he set out before him.

* * *

As it happened to be lunchtime, Mikey gracefully and knowingly made his way around the kitchen gathering the necessary ingredients to create his latest perfect pizza masterpiece. While collecting the items, the youngest turtle began humming to himself. And as he did so, he found it difficult to suppress the song that began building in his throat. 

So in natural Michelangelo fashion, he belted out an original (but stolen) tune as he baked his beloved pizza. Of course, not all turtles are masters of perfect rhymes and lyrics…

_Les pizzas_

_Les pizzas_

_How I love les pizzas_

_Love to chop_

_And to serve a little dish_

_First I cut up the olives_

_Then I pull out the sauce_

_Ah mais oui_

_Ca c'est toujours delish_

_Les pizzas_

_Les pizzas_

_Hee hee hee_

_Hah hah hah_

_With the pizza cutter I hack them in two_

_I roll out the dough_

_And I serve it up fried_

_Shell, I love little pizzas_

_Don't you?_

_Here's something for tempting the palate_

_Prepared in the classic technique_

_First you pound the dough flat with a mallet_

_Then you slash through the cheese_

_Give the pie a big toss_

_Then you rub some spices in_

_'Cause that makes it taste nice_

(Zut alors, I have missed one!)

_Sacre bleu_

_What is this?_

_How on earth could I miss_

_Such a sweet little succulent sausage?_

_Quel dommage_

_What a loss_

_Here we go in the sauce_

_Now some flour, I think_

_Just a dab_

_Now I stuff you with cheese_

_It don't hurt 'cause you're covered in grease_

_And you're certainly lucky you are_

_'Cause you're gonna need a fan_

_In my big silver pan_

_Toodle loo ma pizza_

_Au revoir!_

With one last sprinkle of cheese upon his pizza, Mikey shoved the pan into the oven and awaited the finish of his gooey creation.

Unbeknownst to him, Mike had acquired an audience during his baking session…

Around the corner of the kitchen, crouched low in the shadows, was a guffawing red clad turtle. Upon hearing the off-key notes of his little brother during his serenading of his precious pizza, Raph left his room to investigate and managed to video tape an…unforgettable performance.

Raph let out one more wheezing laugh, before slinking back to his room with his newly acquired footage.


	9. Someone's in the Kitchen

Disclaimer: I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I don't own TMNT.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Someone's in the Kitchen_

Day 9 _(general pov)_

It was sometime before dinner, and Raphael hurriedly scampered around the kitchen. He had uncharacteristically and generously told Mikey he would make him his pizza that evening. Flour covered his face and sauce was splattered down his front. He only had an hour or so until Mikey would come looking for his nightly pizza…and if Mike didn't get his pizza on time…things would turn ugly. As Raph bustled about the kitchen, his thoughts returned to the previous night…

Just the evening before, Michelangelo had readily and eagerly zipped into the kitchen to whip up another pizza creation. He tied on his favorite apron that displayed the message, "Give me pizza, or give me death!"—a creative present from Donatello a few years earlier. Reaching for the cabinet handles, Mike pulled them wide open and to his absolute horror…there were no more pizza ingredients!

Abruptly after making this startling discovery, Mikey landed on the kitchen floor with a **THUD**. At that present moment, Raph decided to make his entrance prepared to get more invaluable footage of his little brother making a complete and utter fool of himself. Slightly shocked at seeing said brother passed out, Raphael shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and he casually stepped over the green being sprawled on the floor. Observing the bare cabinets, obviously devoid of any food items or ingredients, the red clad turtle snatched up an apple and nudged his brother with his foot.

"Mikey…get up, bro. Earth to Mikey!" shouted Raph as he kicked his little brother harder.

With a miserable groan, Michelangelo dramatically brought his hand to his forehead and swooned, "Oh what am I to do? Not a spec of my precious pizza ingredients to be found!" He remained otherwise motionless on the cold floor.

With a typical rolling of his eyes, Raph said, "Don't be such a drama queen. Don and Leo went out a few hours ago to get some groceries for you. They should be back soon."

Sitting up, Mikey grumbled unhappily. "Soon? Soon? How can you say something like that to me? Have you any idea what this means?"

Raphael began to leave the kitchen, deciding being in the kitchen wasn't worth his time if Mikey wasn't engorging himself. He shot back, "You can wait a little longer!"

Pulling himself up off the floor, Michelangelo comforted his stomach with a pat as it gurgled with protest. With one final whimper, the orange clad turtle depressingly removed his beloved apron for the time being until his brothers returned from their errand.

Shuffling his feet, Mike made his way to the couch and threw himself upon it next to Master Splinter. Glancing at his sensei, he saw that the aging rat sat slouched with his head loosely hanging backwards. His tongue fell out the side of his mouth, and a slick drop of drool hung dangerously close to falling. With an occasional snore and snort escaping from him, Splinter's limbs twitched in his deep slumber. Scattered across the front of his kimono were various crumbs from assorted meals in front of the television. Clutched tightly in one paw was the remote.

Mikey glimpsed cautiously once more at Splinter before slowly, and oh so carefully, reaching over to remove the suffocated remote from his sensei's death grip. As the tip of his finger lightly grazed the surface of the remote, the claws holding it squeezed tighter and yanked the remote away from Mikey's reaching hands. Pulling the clicker to his chest, Splinter, still asleep, let out a warning growl and muttered, "Do not change the channel…I am watching…"

In utter shock, Mikey gradually shrank away from the sleep-deprived rat, quite shaken from the growl he had received. Shaking his head, he left the couch and stopped in his tracks as he heard the approaching footsteps and voices of his brothers.

Carrying four bags apiece, Leo and Don re-entered the lair having finished their visit to the surface. Leonardo stopped walking, as Donnie also halted, when they both felt something latch onto their legs. With a glance down, no one other than Mikey could be found hugging their limbs, showering kisses upon their feet.

As this worshipping of their appendages continued, Don looked back up at Leo and whispered, "Is he creeping you out, too?"

Leo answered, "Yeah. Hey Mikey, stop it. What's the matter with you?"

Jumping back up to his feet, Michelangelo stole the grocery bags from their arms and bolted for the kitchen, shouting back, "You brought back wonderful, sweet sustenance! My pizzas will live on!"

"Well, that was freaky," said Donatello, as he slowly blinked…unsure of what he had just seen.

Leo clapped him on the shoulder and stated, "Well, if you need me, I'll be in the dojo trying out a new meditation position."

"What's this one called? 'Cloud that floats in sky'?" snickered Don, taking the chance to make a joke at his brother's expense.

His older brother did not laugh, but looked absolutely puzzled. "How'd you know that?"

Don abruptly stopped chuckling and stared at his blue clad brother in disbelief. "Forget it."

Back to the present task at hand, Raph finished gathering his ingredients. There were regular pizza condiments…and some not so traditional ones.

Arrayed in front of him, stood a container of flour, a jar of sauce, cheese…the essentials. The additional ingredients, however, were a jar of mayonnaise (not low fat), pork, beef jerky, and a container of bacon grease that he had collected from the frying pan after breakfast that morning. Finally pleased with the way his cooking environment was set up, Raph smirked and set to work.


	10. Pizza Pains

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT…at least not yet… ;)

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Pizza Pains_

Day 10

Log Entry 6

It is with great pain and amusement that I write this most recent entry. While the bruising has gone down on my eye where April struck me earlier in the week, I'm afraid that I've acquired several new blue bruises, causing me to resemble giant blueberry. It all started last night…which quickly extended into the early hours of this morning.

Around the perky hour of one last night, I found myself having difficulty sleeping. I tossed and turned…turned and tossed. Finally, with a resigned sigh, I gave up on falling into the depths of slumber, and I rose from bed to get a snack from the kitchen. Getting out of bed, my feet touched the cold floor, and with a weary yawn, I shuffled out of my room.

At the entrance of my bedroom, I looked out over the lair. Down below, Master Splinter sat wide-eyed on the couch, the occasional flickering of the screen lighting up his face in the consuming darkness. I softly chuckled at the sight my sensei presented. His legs were curled up underneath him; one hand reached shakily for a pretzel from the gigantic snack bowl next to him. Clutched to his chest was a puffy pillow that appeared as if it was going to have the fluff squeezed out of it like a marshmallow. Turned down low on the television was a horror movie, one I couldn't name…but every so often Splinter would duck his gaze behind the pillow in an attempt to block out the terrifying images.

Turning my stare from my apprehensive sensei, I continued on my self-appointed quest. As I passed by Mikey's room, the sounds of an unsettled sleeper made themselves known. Curious, as well as concerned for my little brother's well being, I entered what I like to call, "The War Zone".

A word to the wise, tread cautiously in the natural habitat of Michelangelo. This particular species of turtle tends to be unpredictable and unruly. Awareness of your surroundings is key. Even with my extensive knowledge of the behavior and habits of this elusive creature, I found myself a victim.

As I write this, my foot is still throbbing beneath the bandage wrapped around it—a wound implemented into my appendage by a Silver Sentry action figure.

After silently jumping up and down expressing my obvious discomfort, I more carefully picked my path to Mikey's bedside, kicking aside a few scattered comics along the way. Finally reaching him, I observed my little brother tossing and turning with a few whimpers here and there. A troublesome dream was clearly plaguing him in his dreamland, so I decided to take a strategic plan of action.

Shake him until he wakes up.

Okay, okay. I know, not one of my more brilliant plans, but I thought it would get the job done. At the moment, I had clearly forgotten that Michelangelo wasn't what one would call a "light sleeper".

The rest of this irksome night adventure continued something like this…

**Shake. Shake.**

**Tap.**

"Mikey…wake up…"

**Tap. Shake. Tap. Tap.**

"C'mon, Mike. Wake up."

**Shake. Tap.**

**Shake.**

**SHAKE AND TAP**.

"Wake up!"

With that last rather ungentle urge to awaken my brother, I successfully got a somewhat unanticipated response. Mikey proceeded to shoot straight up in bed, take one look at me, and then scream. His fists started flying and landing harsh punches and hits upon my green skin as I attempted futilely to get a latch onto his flailing arms.

"Ah, get away, get away!" Mikey yelled loudly in distress. I thought he was going to wake up everyone in New York, not to mention New Jersey, with his incessant screeches.

I harshly whispered, "Mike, it's me. Calm down."

He eventually settled, and no one even came running at the sound of the blood curdling screams that he had been letting out three minutes earlier. Oh, don't seem so surprised. Splinter wouldn't have batted an eyelash if a piano were dropped on him if he was in front of the television. I wasn't even positive if Raph was home…and Leo, yes, our Fearless Leader, sleeps like the dead—he's even worse than Mike. Yours truly, however, finds it quite difficult to drift into a deep rest. Hmm, it must be all the caffeine…

Once Mikey stopped his hysterics, he stared at me wide-eyed and said, "Oh, hey Don." He then proceeded to throw up all over the floor and my feet.

Several minutes later and certain areas disinfected, as well as sanitized, I pulled up a chair and took a seat next to my ailing brother.

"So, when did this all start?" I queried with a notebook and pen in hand, ready to write.

Mikey dramatically sighed as he lay there on his bed with one arm draped across his forehead. "I don't know. I think many of my problems have stemmed from my childhood, when I was barely but a hatchling crawling around in a green ooze with my three brothers…"

I promptly interrupted him withthe impatient tapping of my foot. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He offered me a quick smirk and shook his head. "Sorry, Don. Couldn't help myself."

"Whatever. Why were you having trouble sleeping?" I asked specifically this time.

"Dunno. I was havin' the freakiest dream ever…" Mikey trailed as he slightly shuddered at the thought.

Nodding, a jotted down a few things and continued, "Describe the dream to me."

I'm not sure at this point if I regret asking Mikey to elaborate his pressing nightmare or not; you decide.

* * *

Mikey's Nightmare 

_Michelangelo sat in the brightly-lit kitchen with a fresh, steaming pizza waiting to be devoured in front of him. As he bit into the wonderful mix of dripping cheese and warm sauce, the room suddenly grew dark. Mikey paused in his eating, slightly alarmed at the loss of illumination in the room._

_He heard soft whispers floating around the room, seemingly having no direction or purpose. The kitchen quickly faded into the swirling shadows and everything became silent._

_"Is anyone—gulp—there?" Mike shakily called out._

_A muffled tapping slowly and agonizingly approached the orange clad turtle. It scraped along an unseen floor in the darkness._

_Creeping closer and closer._

_Getting louder and louder._

_Closer…closer…_

_And then nothing. It fell into silence once more._

_Mikey jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned rapidly and was met with the face of Leo. Letting out a sigh of relief, Mike tried to calm his pounding heart._

_"Jeez, Leo. What's goin' on?" Michelangelo questioned._

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"You haven't noticed anything…I don't know…out of the ordinary?"_

_"Nope, not a thing."_

_"Oh, guess it was just me then, bro."_

_"I suppose. Want to meditate with me? I came up with a new position called 'Confused Chicken That Runs Headless'."_

_With a petrified look, Mikey declined. "Um, no thanks."_

_At this point, Raph entered the floating dark place as well. "Why would Mike wanna meditate with you, when he can help me edit my videotapes?"_

_"No thanks, Raph. I think I'll pass on that, too."_

_"Right, because you wanna help me with another crazy project. Isn't that true, Mikey?" Don stated as he also appeared in the suffocating abyss._

_"I don't know, Donnie," the youngest turtle trailed off._

_As his three elder brothers began to bicker and snip at one another, one more voice made itself known. "Silence, my sons. If Michelangelo does not wish to join any of you, let him be," Master Splinter intervened._

_Everyone fell silent. "Thanks, sensei," Mikey said with gratitude._

_"Of course, my son. Now come watch C-Span with me."_

_"Gah! No! What is wrong with all of you? Where are we?" Mikey shouted as he took several steps back from his "family"._

_They all inched closer and closer, their faces transforming into slices of pizza. In unison, they eerily chanted, "Eat us, Michelangelo. Eat us."_

_"No!" The troubled turtle covered his ears and screwed his eyes shut to block out the scene unfolding before him._

_The darkness faded once more, enveloping him. Mikey slowly peeked through his closed eyes and found no one to be around._

_"What the shell is going on?" Mikey whispered to no one in particular._

_Then as quickly as the darkness had come, it vanished. In its wake, it left thousands of singing and dancing pizzas…with Mike helplessly standing in the middle of it all, utterly lost and confused._

_In the back of his mind, Mikey heard a cackling voice whisper, "Eat, my dancing puppet, eat! Buwhahahahaha!"_

* * *

"And that's about where you woke me up…" Mikey concluded, looking over at me to gauge my reaction. 

I slowly lowered my notebook and shook my head in disbelief. "Okay…that was freaky."

Mike snorted. "Yeah, tell me about it, bro."

"I can't really think of any reason that you'd have a dream like that…unless you feel somewhat uncomfortable with the strange changes that have been going on lately," I suggested.

"Nah, not really. You guys have acted weirder. I'm not so sure about Master Splinter, but I think it's just a phase. So, no," Mikey said.

"Then maybe it was something you ate. What did you put on the pizza you had for dinner?"

"Dunno."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't make it."

"Who did?'

"Raph."

"Why?"

"He offered to."

The realization hit me, and I asked, "Do you know what Raph put on the pizza?"

Mikey thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. I didn't really taste the thing. You see, now that I eat pizza 24/7 for this experiment, I've managed to eliminate chewing and skip straight to swallowing. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Mikey…"

"Yeah?"

"That's disgusting."

"Whatever," he shrugged as he settled more comfortably into bed. "Well, I think I'm okay now. Thanks for talkin' to me, Donnie."

"No problem, Mikey. Just a little advice though…"

"What's that?"

"Whatever Raph put on that pizza couldn't have been good for you, so in the future, let's make sure only you make your meals. Okay?" I pleaded as I stood from my chair, gathering my notes and pen.

"Dude, can do!"

I turned to leave my little brother's room, but before I left, I added, "And Mikey…pick up your room."

In response, I heard Michelangelo mumble beneath his pillow, already half asleep, "Yeah, right. Like that will ever happen."

Returning to my own room, my food run long forgotten, I got back into bed.

This morning, I cornered Raphael, questioning him about the ingredients of Mikey's dinner last night, but all I received from him was a, "Look, the stuff didn't kill him, Don." Which leaves me to wonder what Raph really did put on the stupid pizza. Nevertheless, I'm going to monitor Mike's meals more carefully to reduce the chance of someone—Raph—tampering with the food.

As I write this at a late hour, I hope that tonight will not present more nightmares for Mikey.Otherwise, how am I supposed to get any sleep around here?


	11. Turtle Tantrum

Disclaimer: Aw, do I hafta? 'stomps foot' Fine…I don't own TMNT.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Turtle Tantrum_

Day 11 _(general pov)_

Two mysterious figures crept about the lair; one doing it with practiced stealth, and the other with exaggerated moves and clumsiness. Clearly evident as "partners in crime", they hid themselves behind large objects and in the shadows. The onlysounds filling the large space the turtles called home were the off-key singing of Michelangelo at this hour of noon in the kitchen, Donatello typing away at his computer, and thecries of aggravated fans emanating from the television.

Darting his eyes left and right, a figure checked to make sure his presence was still going undetected; he executed a soundless movement to behind the couch. His graceless companion managed to do half of a somersault across the floor, but unwittingly collided with the back of the sofa. Letting out a string of curses, the blatant "non-ninja" rubbed his bruised head.

The first form put a finger to his lips and harshly said, "Shhh! Do you want someone to hear us, bonehead?"

Still rubbing the grotesque bump developing on his head, the second responded in a mutter, "Jeez, why are we doin' this again?"

His gruff answer from his cohort was simply, "Just follow me." The experienced meddler readied himself for their last movement to enter the kitchen inconspicuously…or so he could only hope with the bumbling buffoon behind him.

As he prepared for the action to move, a voice broke through his concentration. "Raph, what are you and Casey doing behind the couch?" questioned Donatello without even looking away from his charts on the computer monitor in front of him.

Raphael growled and stood up from his hiding place. Crossing his arms, he shot back, "We're on a mission, all right? And you completely just blew our cover."

His purple clad brother snorted and turned in his chair across the lair to face him. "You're joking, right? A mission? What could you and Casey possibly be doing that you could label it as a 'mission'?" Donnie asked, completely amused by this presented idea of his brother and Casey on a crusade. "What are you guys…five?"

"Ha ha ha," Raph replied as he rolled his eyes at his brother's obvious delight at the situation. "We simply have business to attend to in the kitchen. You got a problem with that, bro?"

Don held up his hands in a sign of defense, while chuckling, "No, not at all. You boys continue on your mission; I won't stop you."

"Great. We really appreciate it," sneered Raph sarcastically.

As an afterthought, Donnie added, "So long as it doesn't have anything to do with tampering with Mikey's lunch…"

To this, Raph nodded. "Don't worry about it, Don. I wouldn't dream of it…"

"Yeah, yeah," murmured Donatello as he turned back to his computer and his previous work before revealing the less than furtive Casey and Raphael.

With a satisfied nod, Raph set his eyes on the kitchen and smirked. "C'mon, Casey…we have unfinished matters to deal with in the kitchen…"

"…"

After waiting for a response and palpably not receiving one, Raphael turned to glance behind him where his uncoordinated partner had been nursing a bruise not minutes before. However, the sight he was met with was surprising, and yet, not completely unexpected.

Casey was leaning over the back of the couch as he waved a clenched fist at the screens flashing in front of him. Standing on the piece of furniture, Master Splinter was jumping up and down in fury as his paws pulled at the fur on his head as if he was trying to pull his hair out; his whiskers and tail twitched in undisguised irritation.

Apparently during the football game they were watching, the Jets had made an excellent 20-yard run marking a first down for them, but there had been a flag on the play. The refs were now arguing in the corner about the call, and Splinter and Casey were attempting to dispute with the referees, who couldn't hear them to begin with, that the play was good. One ref broke away from the group and made a few hand signals.

That's when it all fell apart…

The refs had deemed the play "no good", and Cincinnati would gain possession of the ball now. Casey let out another sequence of inappropriate profanities as he beat the defenseless couch in annoyance. Splinter took it to another extreme. He continued jumping up and down on the sofa and ferociously snapped his walking staff over his knee like it was nothing more than a measly twig.

Splinter seethed at the television, "What are you…blind? Stupid ref. That call was completely dishonorable! It must be rigged. I can't believe this…I have fifty bucks riding on this game!"

Stunned, Raphael gaped at his ninjitsu master in disbelief. Splinter…gambling?

Raph stared at the pair; somewhat in a state of shock and merriment…it was almost as funny as watching Michelangelo stuff himself with pizza over and over again. But the disturbing part, he noted, was the uncharacteristic behavior of his sensei. He had never seen the rat so worked up about anything. Sure, he would expect something like that from Casey, but Splinter? Come on…it's Splinter we're talking about.

As the enraged sports duo calmed, still grumbling about the call, Raph placed a comforting hand on the aging rat's shoulder. "Don't worry, sensei. The Jets'll come back."

"Perhaps…" muttered Splinter, burying his hand down into the bowl of chips in front of him as he dug for a handful.

"Okay then…" Raph dismissed his attention from his sensei and focused it on Casey. "Let's go, bonehead. Business in the kitchen, remember?"

The vigilante turned to look at him and nodded enthusiastically. "Huh? Oh, right, right. Business…"

Raphael and Casey made a move for the kitchen in a flustered haste before being halted by yet another voice. Pausing with a groan of disappointment at having almost reached their designated destination, the troublemakers turned to face Leonardo.

"Where are you two going?" Leo demanded with his hands on his hips.

With a frustrated sigh, Raph responded, "Where does it look like, Leo? The kitchen!" He made an embellished gesture towards the entrance to the kitchen in front of him.

Leo raised an eye ridge. "Why?"

Raph's patience was teetering on the edge. "What is this today? Twenty questions?" he grumbled as he shot another glare at Donatello's back. "What's with the third degree, bro?"

"I was just asking," said Leonardo as he shrugged.

"Well, are you done asking now?" questioned Raph rather eagerly.

"Yeah, whatever." And with that, Leo left them standing in front of the kitchen and headed for the dojo. His slight presence had seemingly had no purpose…

Casey frowned and said, "What was the point of that?"

His red clad companion just shook his head. "Absolutely nothing…apparently."

They finally continued their intended path into the kitchen and were met with a singing Mikey—make that a horribly singing Mikey.

The orange clad turtle could be seen by his older brother and accomplice bent over in the refrigerator, assumingly retrieving a beverage to accompany the delectable pizza sitting on the table that was practically begging to be devoured.

Briefly sharing a wicked glance, Raph and Casey tiptoed to the table and snatched the circle of cheese and onions. Mikey stood and twirled around while casually tapping the door shut with an extended foot as he still hummed off-key. He turned to the table, finally ready to enjoy his palatable creation of pizza…and to his horror…it was gone!

_'collective gasp from readers'_ :)

"Ahhhhhh!" screeched Mikey as he dropped his forgotten beverage and began frantically running about the kitchen searching for his beloved lunch.

Having heard the cry of distress from his over reactive little brother, Donatello entered the kitchen to investigate the hullabaloo. He was met with the comical scene of Mikey throwing open every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen, all the while continuing a frantic mantra of "Where is it? Where is it? Where is it!".

After there were no longer any places to search in the kitchen, Mike threw himself down onto the table and burst into further hysterics. Don sighed and walked over to his dramatic brother and began rubbing soothing patterns across his shell to calm him down from his panic attack.

As soon as the sobs of distress Mikey was emitting resided, Donnie helped his brother stand and simply said, "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

With a pathetic whimper and teary filled eyes, Mikey sniffled, "It's gone. My beautiful pizza."

"It's okay, Mikey. I'll help you find it," Don comforted, knowing very well where he would find his distraught brother's pizza. "You just wait right here, okay?"

Michelangelo nodded and with a brief hiccup, sat down in a chair to await the return of his pizza…


	12. Up to No Good

Disclaimer: When I eventually obtain the rights to TMNT, I'll remember you all fondly…Lol. I wish…

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Up to No Good_

Day 11 _(cont.)_

Don sauntered out of the kitchen with a determined look across his face, ready to pummel two certain mischievous thieves if necessary in his quest to rescue Mikey's pizza from certain doom. It was time to step up to the plate. He had warned Raph to stay away from their little brother's meals, but had he listened? No, he certainly did not. To make matters worse, Raphael just had to get Casey in on it too…

Reaching his red clad brother's room, Donatello raised a clenched fist and pounded angrily on the door. Receiving no answer, Donnie shouted, "Raph, open this door! I know you took Mikey's pizza."

The gruff response from the other side of the door was, "Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?"

Impatiently standing outside of the culprits' hideout, Donnie began to visibly shake in irritation. "C'mon. Open the door. Don't make me ask you again," he stated sternly.

Inside the 'secret hideaway', Raph and Casey sat on the floor working out their devious plot. Casey had asked a friend who worked at a movie theater for a tiny favor; his buddy acquired a large container of artificial butter flavoring, which they were currently smearing over the already fat-infested, dripping, greasy pizza. They would see Michelangelo gain weight by the end of week two if it killed them. Both of them snickered at the brainy turtle's empty threats… 

Casey guffawed and yelled back at the door, "Whatchya gonna do, Don? Make a death ray and vaporize us?" 

At this idiotic remark, Donatello's eyes narrowed into slits behind his mask. In a low, menacing voice, he warned, "You know, Raph, I built your bike…and I can easily take it apart. Piece…by piece…by piece… The same goes for you, Casey. I may not have made your bike, but breaking things is a lot easier than building them. Maybe after I'm done with that, I'll make a death ray to finish the two of you off." 

The partners in crime froze in the midst of their heinous actions, petrified of the ominous words that had just been spoken to them. Don wouldn't dare…would he? 

" Do you think he's bluffin'?" Raph questioned his companion, a trace of fear on the edge of his voice. 

The vigilante had an anxious expression plastered on his face and widened his eyes. "Could he really do that?" 

" Yeah, Donnie could take apart our bikes. It doesn't take a genius to do that, bonehead." 

" Take apart our bikes? Oh, I thought you meant building the death ray." 

Raph rolled his eyes, but shrugged all the same. "I suppose Don could build one if he wanted to; he's invented some unique things before…but that's not the point! He sounds kind of ticked…he's certainly capable." 

" Really? But this is Donnie we're talking about. He's always so passive about everything," Casey attempted to reason. 

Nodding, Raphael said, "True, but you haven't known him as long as I have. Sure, he acts all quiet and innocent…luring you into a false sense of security, then POW! He dives in for the kill." 

" You can't be serious." 

" Absolutely; once, when we were five—" Raph began, but was interrupted by the rising voice of his brother once more. 

Still waiting restlessly outside for a response, Don banged on the defenseless door repeatedly. "This your last chance to open this door before I go up into the warehouse and take apart the bike." 

With a sudden whoosh of air, the door flew open with an apprehensive Raph and Casey thrusting a quite greasy pizza into Donnie's hands. Just as quickly as it had opened, the door shut with a thud and the clicking of the lock made itself known. With a somewhat stunned look, Don blinked slowly at the dripping pizza in his hands. 

He called to the occupants behind the shelter of the door, "Thanks…eww, what did they do to it?" 

Shrugging, he turned to head back to the kitchen where he had left his little brother whining and whimpering for his cheesy circle of greasy goodness. As an afterthought, Donatello shot back, "And don't let it happen again! If I find you anywhere near Mikey during mealtimes again, you can kiss your bikes goodbye!" 

Returning on his path to the kitchen, Don thought, 'Jeez…the things I do for my brothers.' 

As he entered the kitchen, naturally expecting a drooling Mikey at the first sign of his saved pizza, Donnie was puzzled to find no one even near the vicinity of the kitchen. Placing the deformed and sodden pizza on the table, Don began searching high and low for his deprived, and slightly depraved, orange clad brother. 

Venturing elsewhere in the lair, Donatello was met with a ghastly sight that could jeopardize everything he had worked so hard for… 

Mikey sat on the sofa, looking absolutely bored out of his mind, as Splinter watched an infomercial for a hair removal product. While the ninjitsu master seemed eerily intrigued by the sale the people on the flashing screen were pitching, Mike had no interest in it whatsoever…after all, he didn't have any hair to begin with. 

And if he tried to change the channel, the aging rat would simply growl or smack him on the back of his head. Trying to occupy his mind with other things, Michelangelo absently reached for…**dun dun dun**…a carrot from the tray on the table in front of them. 

Everything from there took place in slow motion. 

_" NOOOOO!"_ shouted Don as he lunged for Mikey's hand. He flew through the air, snatching the orange vegetable as it almost entered the gaping mouth of his little brother. 

Landing on the floor in a roll, Donnie promptly shoved the veggie in question down his throat, only slightly choking as it went down. 

Splinter, unfazed, continued to stare at the television screen. He scratched his chin, clearly deep in thought. 

Mikey stared at his older brother clearly dumbfounded and amazed. Excitedly he jumped off the couch and ran over to Donnie. "Dude, that was so cool!" 

Donnie just shook his head and began to scold him. "You almost ate something besides pizza. Don't let me catch you doing it again, or you can say goodbye to your precious video games." 

Slowly backing up, wary of his brother, Mike said, "Take it easy, Don. Let's not talk crazy…just leave the video games out of it. I promise, you won't catch me near another veggie." 

Placing his hands on his hips, Don nodded, satisfied with that response. "Good, your pizza awaits on the kitchen table." 

" Huzzah! You rescued my pizza! My hero!" Mikey shouted as he danced merrily around the purple clad turtle and pranced right on into the kitchen to enjoy his soggy, butter-covered pizza. 

Releasing a sigh, Donnie collapsed on the couch next to his sensei. "Hey Master Splinter." 

"…" 

" Watching an infomercial, I see." 

"…" 

" Considering hair removal?" 

" Perhaps…" 

" Why?" 

" Tell me this, my son…do you think if I removed a thin layer of my fur it would make me look thinner?" 

"…" 

" Donatello?" 

" Uh, gotta go, sensei." And with that, Donnie bolted for the temporary refuge of his lab. Splinter didn't even notice him leave as he picked up the phone to make an order… 


	13. Fast Food

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT…blah blah blah.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Fast Food_

Day 12

Log Entry 7

My stomach is gurgling…it hurts so badly. I haven't been able to keep anything down since before lunch. It doesn't seem conceivable…fathomable…possible…

Michelangelo has taken the process of eating and food consumption to a new low.

But before I mortify you with the details of that latest escapade…I worry for the sanity of the rest of my family. Or maybe it's all in my head, and I'm the only one that doesn't get what is going on. Be sure to let me know if you think I'm the one losing it.

Early this morning, I awoke to the sickening aroma of paint wafting about the lair. Unable to allude the stifling odor in my sleep, I rose with a resigned sigh. After stretching my stiff limbs and cracking a sore neck, I shuffled out of my room while suppressing an irksome yawn.

As I entered the lair, the smell of paint became overwhelming. Where was it coming from? I searched and tried not to inhale too much of the offensive fumes. My sleuthing brought me to the dojo…and let me just say this, I have never seen my older brother look any more ridiculous.

Leo was perched on a ladder wearing a smock, his face and arms splattered here and there with yellow paint. The entire wall was a cheerful, bright sunny shade that lit up the room. The blue clad turtle was currently sticking butterfly and flower stickers on the wall as he hummed 'Walkin' on Sunshine'.

I stood gaping for a few moments, unable to summon the ability to speak. Vaguely, I heard Raph's voice behind me say, "He's been at it since early this mornin', Donnie."

Swallowing, I managed, "Why?"

Raph shrugged. "I dunno entirely. He just said he felt like 'redecorating'. I'm headin' to April's with Casey. Wanna come?"

"No thanks. But could you try apologizing to April again for me?" I pleaded.

"Sure thing, but I don't think she's gonna forgive you just yet for this little experiment, Don," Raph snickered as he began to leave.

I called after him, "Don't you think that the mean note she gave to you for me was a step in the right direction?"

"No!" was the response as Raph's voice faded from the lair.

Yes, April still hadn't forgiven me. Every once in a while Raph would see her, and he'd tell her I was sorry because she won't even speak to me. She's still concerned about Mikey's health…but seriously, I think that is the least of my family's worries right now.

For example, the scenario that was playing out in front of me. Butterfly stickers? Jeez…what is Leo thinking?

I decided to approach Leonardo and slowly weed from him the reasoning behind his sudden need to take on this little project of his.

"So, Leo…" I began. "What are you doin'?"

He looked down at me from the ladder. "Redecorating."

"I can see that. Why?"

"Why not?"

"Touché. But I was looking for a more specific answer, if you don't mind that is."

"It's better than looking at a sewer wall. Doesn't it just make the aspect of practicing ninjitsu that much better? C'mon. Tell me canary yellow just doesn't wanna make you smile."

I raised an eye ridge. "Canary yellow?"

"Yeah, that's the name of the color."

"Oh…right. Um, it's fantastic, Leo. This wall always did seem drab."

"Glad you think so. I think I'm gonna paint my room next. Want me to do yours?" Leo offered as he stepped down from the ladder, satisfied with the wall at last.

"No! I mean…no, that's all right, bro. Thanks for the offer though. And just be sure you get some fans in here so we don't suffocate from the fumes, okay?" I said, slowly backing out of the room.

"Right. Bye Don!" Leo waved enthusiastically at me as I bolted.

Scary. Am I right?

Breakfast took place for me without a hitch, and the day seemed to be looking up. Until lunch that is…

Upon entering the kitchen, I was met with the sight of Mike removing his freshly baked pizza from the oven. Olives sat upon the cheesy circle. All right, good…nothing out of the ordinary.

As I sat at the table, intending to get some work done, I glanced over at my little brother expecting him to join me, but instead, he moved over to the counter. Intrigued, I continued to observe his actions.

He placed the hot pizza pan on the counter, and he reached for something in the cabinet. Michelangelo pulled out the blender and plugged it in.

Curious, I questioned, "What are you doing, Mikey? Making a smoothie?"

He glanced back at me and nodded. "Sort of, bro."

Sort of?

This is where I began to become utterly repulsed.

Mike picked up his pizza and commenced to stuff it into the blender. Placing the lid on top of the appliance, his finger hovered over the different settings. "What do you think, Don? Whipped or purée?"

I blankly stared at him.

"Purée it is then." And with that, I sat and watched an entire pizza swirl around and around being shredded by tiny, spinning blades.

Considering it well mixed, Mikey stopped the blender and took off the lid. In what seemed like agonizing slow motion, my brother poured the sickening goop of pizza sauce, cheese, and olives into a glass. No, it certainly didn't resemble a pizza anymore…just a thick paste that dripped slowly into the glass.

I feel sick just thinking about it.

When I questioned Mike about why he was doing this, he stated that it was more "convenient" and decided to call it "fast food". He then proceeded to chug the entire glass of the putty pizza compound. I, however, sprinted for the bathroom to thoroughly empty my bowels for the next few hours.

After my stomach had finally settled somewhat, it was already late. I ventured over to the television to sit for a while on the couch.

As I approached the couch, I was met with the frightening appearance of my sensei.

Splinter sat slouched over on the sofa in his characteristic drool covered state when he was asleep and snored loudly as the Discovery Channel played out on the screens in front of him. Spilled out all over the table was the contents of a purse. Scattered about were containers of make-up. I recognized the purse as April's and sighed. Apparently, Raph had taken the possession during his little visit with Casey to April's apartment.

And what had they done with all of these items? Oh yes…they made Master Splinter into a very pretty rat.

His fur was coated with eye shadow, blush, eyeliner, and mascara…the works. A bright red hue even graced his lips. Stepping away from the scene, I walked away, certainly not wanting to be associated with any part of that mess.

Even stranger I think is that Master Splinter won't even notice when he wakes up.

So, as I close another entry with stomach pains and an increasing headache, I pray that the end of this experiment will come quickly.


	14. Interruptions

Disclaimer: Must I state the obvious? I don't own TMNT.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Interruptions_

Day 13

The sounds of soft clicking could be heard as Donatello typed away at his computer, enjoying the rare silence of the lair. His stomach pains from the day before after witnessing Mikey's new version of "fast food" had finally subsided. The previous evening had passed with no mishaps, disasters, or bizarre incidents that even the intelligent turtle could not explain. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to try to understand the complexity of the strange behavior that seemed to be following around his family as of late.

When Don had departed from his room earlier in the morning, he was surprised, yes, even shocked, to see that Splinter had vacated the couch. The televisions had all still been on, flickering in the dimly lit room at that early hour. With a sense of relief, Donnie flipped off the screens for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

After an uneventful breakfast alone, Don began to wonder about the whereabouts of his brothers. Quickly banishing those thoughts, he decided to relish this peaceful atmosphere while it lasted. So, he sat himself down in front of his computer screen to catch up on some of his neglected inventions that were still in the works.

With a satisfied sigh, Donatello closed his eyes once more to appreciate the serene silence that was so often denied to him. It was so quiet, peaceful, tranquil, silent, still, hushed, calm…

"Don, have seen you seen Mikey anywhere? Mikey! Where are you?" shouted Raphael as he departed from the kitchen, abruptly shattering the solitude that his younger brother had just been appreciating. He resumed shouting as he cradled the video camera in his hands.

Scratch that…the lair could never be anything…but loud.

"Mikey!" Raph continued to screech.

Donatello covered his ears in annoyance. "Yeesh, Raph. You don't have to scream. He's not here…at least, as far as I can tell."

His red clad brother ceased his vocal search for their little brother. "Oh. You seen him?"

"Nope. I haven't seen him at all this morning," Don responded as he returned his attention to his computer.

"Darn. I was hopin' to catch some more pizza eating action on film," muttered Raph, kicking his foot at the ground in disappointment.

Don sighed, "Well, I'm sure he'll turn up sooner or later. It is almost lunchtime."

As he began typing again, Donnie paused as a quite enticing scent made its way to his nose. He sniffed at the alluring smell and pondered at its source.

"Is someone baking?" Don questioned.

Nodding his head, Raphael took a seat on the couch and turned on the televisions. "Yeah, pansy Leo is baking."

"You're joking," said Donnie as he turned in his chair to face the sofa.

Raph sent a glance back and confirmed his earlier statement. "Yup, the whole kitchen is a mess."

Just then, the ringing of Raph's Shell Cell interrupted their conversation. "Hey, talk to me," answered Raph.

Erupting from the phone was April's high-pitched scolding voice, and Raph was forced to hold the device away from his head so her screaming wouldn't deafen him.

_"Raphael! You and Mr. Jones are going to pay dearly if my purse isn't returned right now!"_

Don gave his brother an accusing look, and Raph just shrugged sheepishly mouthing, "It was Casey's idea." The night before, Don recalled finding their sensei asleep on the couch, his entire face covered in make up. He had surmised that Raphael and Casey had been the ones responsible for swiping April's purse.

Raph began trying to reason with the furious woman on the other end of the line. "C'mon, April. It was just a joke…"

Still holding the phone away from his head, Raph retreated to his room to try and calm April down.

Shaking his head with a rolling of his eyes, Donnie returned back to his work…only to be stopped by another intrusion.

As soon as Raph scampered off to the confines of his room, Leonardo waltzed into the room from the kitchen. In his hands he carried a hot, fresh batch of muffins. Twirling, as opposed to walking, Leo halted in front of his purple clad brother holding out the tray to him in glee.

"Want to try one of my muffins, Don? They have blueberries," prodded Leo at his little brother.

Donnie tore his eyes away from the monitor and rested them upon the sight of tempting muffins. They did look good…but then again, Leo never was the cook of the family.

Deciding to play it safe, Donatello politely declined. "No thanks, bro. I just ate a little while ago."

"You sure?" questioned Leo as his face fell a little.

Don replied, "Yes, I'm sure. How about you go and find Master Splinter? I bet he'd like to try one."

"Great idea, Donnie. But I should probably let them cool…do you mind if I leave them here on your desk?" asked Leo as he untied the less than masculine apron around his waist.

"Yeah, sure," answered Don indifferently, already absorbed by the screen in front of him.

Leo turned to leave and clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Now I can finish painting my room."

And with that, the blue clad turtle pranced off to his room to unleash more of his little seen creative side.

With yet another sigh of relief, Don settled more comfortably into his chair, ready to get some work done.

Singing off-key and under his breath, Mikey entered the room. "Les pizzas, les pizzas…"

Throwing his hands into the air in defeat, Don began to bang his head repeatedly against the solid surface of his desk. Mike glanced at his brother and paused in his singing to shout, "Hey Donnie."

Don waved his hand as he continued to beat his head upon the desk in front of him. Michelangelo gracelessly collapsed onto the couch, sifting through the mail in his hands. Yes, they get mail…there is no one that can escape junk mail and the US Postal Services!

"Junk, junk, junk…" Mike rattled off as he threw the useless letters to the floor. Finally deciding to make an entrance, Splinter shuffled into the room and joined his son on the couch.

"Hey sensei, where have you been?" questioned Mikey, still sorting through the pile of mail.

"Washing some strange goop off of my fur. It was quite difficult to remove," said Splinter, taking the remote in his paw to channel surf.

Don heard his master's comment and glanced at Raphael's closed door, wondering how his conversation with April was progressing. An angry April was a scary thing…he should know.

Mikey exclaimed, "Hey Master Splinter! There's a package for you." He placed the mysterious brown package on the table in front of them, and Splinter slowly looked it over.

"Ah, it has finally arrived. If you will excuse me, my sons." And with that, the ninjitsu master exited the room once more for the solitude of his own quarters.

With a raised eye ridge, Mike turned to look at his brother at the computer. "What was that about?"

Don just shrugged; he wasn't quite sure himself.

Michelangelo turned back to the task in front of him and persisted in his mantra, "Junk, junk, junk, junk…hey! Look at this!" He jumped up from his seat and began to dance merrily around the room in a fit of joy.

He leaped over to his brother's desk and grabbed Don's hands; Mikey began to spin them around and around and around and around….

"Yipee!" squealed Mikey as Don became dizzier and dizzier and dizzier…

Just as he felt he was about to be sick, again, Don abruptly halted the myriad of circles his little brother was leading them in. "Calm down, Mike. Now just what is so exciting?"

Michelangelo, still leaping around in uncontained happiness, shouted, "We're rich! We're rich!"

"Huh?" muttered Don, who still utterly clueless as to what was going on. As his brother danced by, he grabbed the envelope crushed in Mikey's grasp with a yoink.

"Hey!" protested Mikey as he stopped his little parade.

Donnie slowly read the letter and crumpled it up. He tossed it over his shoulder as Mike looked on in horror. Mikey dove for the crinkly paper on the floor and demanded of his brother, "What did you do that for?"

Stopping with another heavy sigh, Don rubbed his temples. "Mikey, that is a sweepstakes contest. Everybody gets those…it only says you have the chance to win a million dollars."

Mike objected. "But on the envelope it said, 'You have won a million dollars.'"

"Yeah, and if you actually looked close enough, you would see that it's just a ploy for you to send them money," lectured Don as he seated himself back at his desk. "No one hardly ever wins those things."

The orange clad turtle's eyes became huge and watery. "So…we're not going to be rich?"

"Nope. Sorry, Mikey," consoled Don as he took pity on his naïve little brother.

His melancholic mood evaporated, and Mike noticed the tray of muffins sitting next to his brother. "Hey, can I have one of those muff—"

"No," Don firmly stated as he swatted away his brother's wandering hands. "Go eat pizza if you're hungry."

Mikey's newfound chipper mood disappeared, and he pouted as he left to go make a pizza in the kitchen. "Fine. I like pizza better anyway."

Don shot back at him, "Duh! Tell me something I don't know."

His brother made a face at him and left.

Ah, finally…no more interruptions…

"Donatello…"

Nevermind…

Don released a typical sigh and turned to answer his sensei. "What is it, Master Splin…ter…?"

The intelligent turtle's eyes bugged out of his head as he took in the sight before him. "Sensei…what did you do?"

Before him, Splinter stood completely hairless. Every last inch of his fur gone. Don would have laughed at the undignified appearance of his sensei, but he had better sense than to laugh in Master Splinter's face. Donnie didn't actually think that his master would order that hair removal stuff he had seen on the television.

"Has this supposed hair removal product worked?" Splinter question innocently.

Donatello averted his gaze elsewhere. "Um, haven't you looked in a mirror, sensei?"

"No, I have not, my son."

"Um…just a suggestion, but maybe you used too muchof the stuff?" Don stood from his chair and looked for a way to escape.

"What do you mean?" ventured Splinter.

"Uh, can't help, sensei…I've got to go work out in the dojo! I wouldn't want to fall behind in my lessons. Later!" And with that, Donnie bolted from the place where he stood and made a getaway for the dojo.

Splinter scratched his head in confusion. While trying to figure out why his son was so jumpy, another of his pupils entered the room.

Raph exited his room still arguing on his phone with April.

"April, I'm going to find it right now, then I'll bring back to you. Okay? I'm tellin' you, it was all Casey's idea. Right, right…" Raph spoke into the phone. He didn't even notice the presence of his rat master.

Reaching the coffee table and gathering up the displaced contents of Aprils purse, Raph raised his head and gazed at the bare sight of his sensei.

"Um, April…I'm gonna have to call you back…" Raph murmured.

"Raphael, perhaps you can tell me if the hair removal product I purchased worked," suggested Splinter.

Rapidly, Raph dropped April's purse and his cell, running as fast as he could back into his room.

Splinter stood completely dumbfound in the middle of the lair. "What was the matter with him?"


	15. Something is Out of Place

Disclaimer: 'taps microphone' Is this thing on? Testing…testing. 'clears throat' Attention: I do not own TMNT, that is all. Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Something is Out of Place_

Day 14

Log Entry 8

Somebody shoot me now…just do it. Truly, you would be doing this turtle a favor.

Okay, okay. So things aren't that bad, and stranger things have happened. But Experiment Pizza is definitely in my top ten list of the stupidest things we've ever done. Nothing is going right…or normal, for that matter.

As I sit in my room writing this, I can't stop the shaking of my hand or the paranoia that is setting in. I made sure to lock my door…wouldn't want anyone wandering in. I think my eye just twitched, or did I just think that I thought I was thinking that my eye twitched? Aw, shell. I am so losing it.

Today officially marked the fourteenth day of Experiment Pizza and the third weigh-in of Michelangelo. I'll get to that later…it seems to be the source of where all of my rising problems are stemming.

Early this morning, I planted my feet firmly on the ground with a mission in mind. That mission: protect Mikey's meals from a devious deviant…Raph. I wanted to ensure that Mike's pizzas remained free of any additions that Raphael may have placed on them if he had the chance. If you recall, one week ago he attempted to aid Michelangelo in putting on any extra pounds. However, his plans were thwarted, as Mikey only gained two pounds. Another puzzle to me…I had come to the conclusion that he has a high metabolism, but we shall see if my hypothesis is correct.

This may surprise you, but even with my watchful gaze following Mike's every move, I still had to foil several attempts Raph made to tamper with our little brother's meals.

After I exited my room, I sprinted to Mikey's room to guarantee safe passage for him to the kitchen. As I entered the "War Zone", taking care where I stepped, the sight before me…I was utterly dumbfounded.

Raph stood over a sleeping Mike while whispering subliminal messages to him. Yes, that's right. The scene played out as follows:

"Raph! What the shell do you think you're doing?" I shouted, clearly infuriated.

He jumped away from the bed and threw his hands up into the air. "What? I didn't do anything. I swear," gulped Raphael as he took notice of my looming presence.

I tapped my foot impatiently and placed my hands on my hips. "Don't try to pull that with me, bro. Somehow I don't think you whispering to Mikey, 'Smother bacon grease over your pizzas' is nothing."

My red clad brother shrugged sheepishly. "I thought I'd give it a try."

"Out! Get out!" I shouted, pointing at the doorway.

Raph scuttled out of the room in a flurry as I shot after him, "I can't believe you actually thought something like that would work on someone."

Turning back to Mikey's bed as I shook my head in disbelief, I found it to be vacant. Quickly searching about the room, I found Michelangelo headed for the doorway. He wasn't quite awake yet, for he was sort of swaggering as opposed to walking.

As I grabbed his arm to halt his procession from the room, I heard him muttering under his breath, "Must…smother…bacon grease on pizza…" After slapping myself on the forehead and contemplating the manipulability of my little brother, I shook him awake.

We proceeded to the kitchen without further mishaps, and I observed breakfast without any hitches…with the exception of the loss of my own breakfast to the toilet. I was so sick…Mikey had folded the pizza in half, leaned his head back, and squeezed the circle of cheese until all of its sickening juices slid down the funnel he had created and into his throat. Disgusting, yes? He claimed it was a replacement for orange juice. That was the point that I headed to the bathroom…rather rapidly.

During lunch, Mike decided to put peppers on his gooey creation and was pulling the pizza from the oven as the buzzer went off. I turned my back briefly toward the counter as I made my sandwich, and when I returned my attention to Mike, I found Raph had snuck behind him and was sprinkling something on the pizza. And Mike? He didn't even notice!

I let out a frustrated yell and ushered our meddling brother out of the kitchen. As I re-entered the kitchen, Mikey was still unaware of the events that had transpired and was singing off-key under his breath—a task he had been performing often as of late.

For the afternoon's events, I figured it would be safest for Mike and me to lounge on the couch in front of the television. The sofa had managed to remain unoccupied by our sensei for some time now. I had thought of it as progress, but now I'm not so sure if what my master is up to now is any better. It's sort of a step back, if you know what I mean.

While we sat flipping through the channels, Master Splinter stepped in front of us. Using our practiced straight faces, Mike and I struggled to keep from laughing. No one has told Master Splinter what he looks like since his mishap with the hair removal gel he ordered.

You would think that Splinter would have figured it out by now, but he doesn't believe in worrying about one's personal appearance. Something about having inner beauty... that's why he doesn't have a mirror. He refuses to even look at his reflection. So, he has been wandering around the lair hairless with his kimono wrapped tightly around him. Adding to this amusing appearance, little stubbles of his fur have started growing back on his skin. It sort of reminds me of a Chia Pet. And it saddens me that my normally sharp master would not notice his plight.

Call us spineless, cowards, gutless, pathetic whatever. You try mustering up the courage to tell your poor, delusional sensei that he looks outright ridiculous.

So here we sat, forcing down our laughter and looking at our ninjitsu master without breaking into a fit of pathetic giggles.

Splinter began, "My sons, I have a question for you."

"Yes, Master Splinter?" snorted Mike; I elbowed him in the side.

"Do you feel a slight draft in here?" he questioned innocently.

As Mikey choked back another chortle, I forced myself to answer. "No, Master Splinter. But if you want, I'll check around the lair to see if some drafts are getting in somewhere later."

Splinter scratched his chin in a moment of thought. "Thank you, Donatello." He wandered away from the couch and headed for his room. I could have sworn I heard him say, "I was sure there was a draft in here…darn freezing sewers."

And so, the day passed on without too many odd occurrences. Though I did have to swat Raph's hand away from Mikey's pizza during dinner at least four times. I have no idea what he was trying to put on it, but I knew it couldn't be good. Leo did not join us at the table, as his stomach still couldn't handle the sight of Michelangelo eating…not to mention an all too familiar sound.

**SMACK!**

Yup, that's right. When Mikey decides to actually slow down and take bites of his pizza as opposed to stuffing it in his entire mouth, skipping chewing altogether, he still chews with his mouth hanging wide open.

Tonight was just a little bit worse.

As Michelangelo continued his routine…

**Chew.**

**Chew. Chew.**

**Smack.**

**Smack. Smack. Chew.**

**Chew. Smack.**

A large piece of sausage wrapped in a sickening, drippy piece of cheese that tightly clung to a bit of crust flew out of his mouth and onto the floor. Now, we try to keep our home as clean as possible, but it's still a sewer. Not to mention the fact that we all walk around bare foot. So the floor isn't exactly the most sanitary of places…

Instead of picking up the saturated piece of pizza and throwing it away, without missing a beat in his chew, smack, and chew, he scooped up the piece and popped it right into his mouth.

I nearly choked on my own food at this grotesque sight. I think I may have seen a dust bunny attached to it…ick, it's better not to think about it.

Finally, the momentous occasion of the day arrived. Mikey's third official weigh-in. After his second weigh-in following the first week of the experiment, my little brother gained two pounds from his initial weight of 180. As you already know, this puzzled me to no end, and it left me with the hypothesis that he simply has a high metabolism.

My brothers and I gathered around my lab table with my charts and logbook sprawled across it, ready to take down the new information. Raph stood ready with the video camera about to burst from excitement; Leo absently fiddled with his pencil waiting to write as he muttered under his breath about needing to dust his new porcelain flamingo collection.

"Step onto the scale, Mikey," I instructed, trying to remain inapprehensive.

He slowly stepped onto the scale…and his weight had changed from 182 to…

"What the shell?" Raph shouted. "Is there something wrong with this stupid thing?" He let out a snarl of anger and kicked the unsuspecting scale.

We all stood in shock surrounding the scale, unable to comprehend the number the scale read. Leo, Raph, and I looked to Mikey as if he could provide an explanation. He simply shrugged while appearing to look almost…pleased. Mike then hopped off the scale and ambled to his room where he promptly shut the door.

180...to 182...to 174?

Leo looked at me expectantly. "174? How is that possible, Don? We've all seen the way he's been eating."

I didn't respond; I didn't have an answer. It just didn't make any sense…

No exercise.

No eating anything but pizza.

It was simple enough…wasn't it? How did Mikey lose weight on this type of diet?

We all slowly left my lab area in favor of sitting in the kitchen.

I stuttered, "I-I just don't know, Leo. He eats, sleeps, and spends the rest of his time in front of the television or in his room."

Raph fiddled with the video camera and sat down in frustration. "What does he do when he goes into his room?"

"Read comics, I guess," offered Leo as he began taking out a mixing bowl and ingredients for baking a cake.

"You guess?" scoffed Raphael.

I nodded in agreement. "I think you're on to something, Raph. I think we need to find out what Mike is up to in his room…"

"How we gonna do that, bro?" asked Raph as he continued messing with the zoom on the camera.

Looking at the video camera in his hands, an idea struck me that I elaborated to my brothers.

Interrupting my explanation, Master Splinter entered the kitchen as well to get himself a cup of tea. He began scratching incessantly at his skin in various places.

We stopped our discussion to observe our master's erratic actions.

Raph felt brave enough to ask what we were all thinking. "You itchy or somethin', sensei?"

Splinter turned from the teapot on the counter to face us. "Now that you mention it, my son, my skin feels rather dry."

"Oh," Raph responded, clearly disinterested already.

Leo's eyes lit up and said, "Master Splinter, you should try this lotion April loaned to me. She said it could heal even the most severely dried skin. Its scent is called…well, I can't remember. It was some kind of flower."

Raph and I shared an amused look as Leo and Splinter left the kitchen in search of the lotion.

After they departed, we must have laughed for another ten minutes. Our sides were absolutely aching. Once we calmed enough, we decided to carry out our plan tomorrow, with or without pansy Leo's help.

I really don't know what's going on anymore in our household, and I'm the one that instituted this experiment in the first place. But I'm going to get to the bottom of this mess…


	16. He Did What?

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. However, I do own these really cool puffy stickers that I found lost in a long forgotten corner of one of my desk drawers. It proclaims "They stick on anything!" I had forgotten that the way they drew the characters on the old show was so funny…Mikey looks like he's going to fall, Raph is running very awkwardly, April is wearing that awful yellow suit thing, and the Shredder doesn't have a shirt on! It's true…just his purple cape. The copyright date on the package is 1988…I was only two then…how strange, ne?

Anyway, on with the story…

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_He's Did What?_

Day 15

With a satisfied smile, Donatello sat at his computer. Leo sat on his right humming as he painted his nails a color befittingly named 'flamingo pink', and Raph sat on his left with his legs propped up on the desk as he absently attempted to pop pieces of popcorn into his mouth. Evidence of his failure lay scattered about floor as about one in every ten pieces of popcorn would make it into his mouth. Their plan was being put into motion after hours…well, minutes…of planning.

They had all woken up a little earlier to finalize the details of their stakeout. The goal for their mission: find out what Mikey does all day in his room. The day began with Leo making a pizza for Michelangelo's breakfast. As the enticing aroma lured their little brother out of his room, Raph, using his excellent skills of ninja stealth while whistling the theme from 'Mission Impossible', planted a camera in the Mike's room as Leo kept him busy in the kitchen. However, that did not give Raphael a lot of time to complete his task for his elder brother was still extremely squeamish at the sight of the orange clad turtle's eating habits; not to mention the fact that Mikey only took about two minutes to finish any meal.

Either way, they succeeded in the hiding the camera on a crowded shelf that would not be easily detected. Donnie checked and rechecked the video feed, and they were set.After Mikey finished his breakfast, he promptly returned to his room and closed the door.

That brought them to the present moment. Everything was in place; all they had to do now was watch and see what their little brother did all day with his time. And more importantly, was he doing something to tamper with his weight?If he was, they were going to force the answers out of him. They could make a fortune on a new flavor of the month diet craze. If Atkins and South Beach were sellers, then a diet trying to sold by mutants could make it, right? Hey, some people are just that desperate.

Raphael stared at Donatello's computer, which was currently displaying the feed from the camera, and sighed. "I'm bored."

Leo and Don looked at the sai-wielding turtle in frustration. "We've only been watching for like two minutes, Raph," Donnie scolded.

He put his popcorn bowl down and retorted, "Yeah, I know. And he ain't doin' anything. Therefore, I'm bored."

"You should try to be more patient," Leonardo absently advised as he observed his nails with a scrutinizing eye.

"Yeah, right. And what the heck are you doing, Leo? This pansy act has got to stop," Raph yelled.

Don shook his head and decided not to get involved.

"What do you mean by 'pansy act'?" Leo innocently asked.

"Shell, I don't believe this," muttered Raphael.

Interrupting, Donatello said, "Uh, bros, you should look at this."

They all peered intently at the video feed being displayed the computer monitor.

Mikey had broken out his precious comic book collection. He dumped four bulky boxes of comics on the floor and proceeded to delve through the piles for a suitable one to read.

As they watched Mike attack the mass of comics, Leo nodded. "See? I told you that's all he does in his room all day. If he spent that much time working on his ninjitsu, he would improve so much."

Raph snickered. "If he spent that much time practicing, he'd be you, Leo."

Donatello let out a small chuckle, but put on a straight face at the glare the blue clad turtle shot him.

"What's he doing now?" Raph queried.

Opening up an issue of Spiderman, Michelangelo gently laid the comic on his bed and observed the pages for a few moments. He then proceeded to leap in front of the mirror and shout, "I'm Spiderman!" With a quick flick of his wrist, he commanded, "Go web, go!" This was shortly after accompanied by a "I'll save you, Mary Jane!" and an excited "My spidey senses are tingling."

Back in front of Donatello's computer, three turtles had collapsed onto the floor laughing hysterically in fits of uncontrollable laughter. Leonardo sat crouched over holding his sides. Donnie wheezed with laughter as he struggled for air. Raphael harshly hit the floor with his mouth hanging open in silent amusement as tears practically began streaming down his face.

Attempting to calm themselves down, they reseated in front of the computer still letting out a snort and chuckle here and there.

"Well, you wanted to know what he did all day in his room, Raph," Don chuckled, quite out of breath.

"I know. But this was better than anything that I ever imagined in my head was. Priceless footage we're getting here, bros. Priceless," praised Raph.

Leo pointed at the screen as he let out another giggle. "I don't think the show is even being close from over."

Thinking himself to be in the protected privacy of his own room, Michelangelo had whipped out a pair of white briefs and tied a sheet around his neck. He jumped onto the bed as he placed one fist on his hip and the other in the air. In deep, and what he would deem heroic, voice Mikey proclaimed, "I am Superman!" The comic loving geek bounded off of his bed and ran around the room while making several whooshing noises.

Again, his antics sent his older brothers into hysterics while remaining ignorant of it all.

"I can't believe this," Don managed to get out as he choked back another laugh.

Raph slapped his brainy brother on the back of his shell. "You always have the greatest ideas, Donnie."

"Oh look! He's doing Batman now!" Leo exclaimed as he excitedly pointed to the monitor.

Blissfully unaware in his natural surroundings, Mike donned a black sheet and swung it in front of him. "Evil doers beware! The World's Greatest Detective will hunt to down!" Proceeding to run around the room, Mikey displayed his amazing musical skills as he hummed the television series theme song and ended each line with "Batman!".

Did it end there? Of course not! Over the next four hours, Mikey entertained himself in front of his mirror drawing inspiration from his favorite comic book superheroes. From the X-Men to the Hulk to the Fantastic Four to Wonder Woman...Mike did them all.

As the impersonations had grown old very quickly, the three snooping turtles had sluggishly found other things to occupy them with while they waited for their little brother to do something else.

Don had fallen asleep while playing a game of Solitaire on his desk; a glob of drool had made its way out of his mouth and onto the cards as he lightly snored.

Leo was knitting a sweater for Splinter as all of his fur still hadn't grown back yet, and the eldest turtle couldn't stand that their sensei was constantly complaining about a draft that simply did not exist.

And Raph had the spare video camera capturing the actions of his brothers.

Raphael glanced at the computer monitor to see if Mikey had taken up a new activity. Nope, he was running in place as he pretended to be the Flash on his bed; every once in a while he would jump up and strike a pose.Hearing the shuffle of his sensei entering the room, Raph turned his head to greet his master.

"What's up, Master Splinter?" Raph asked the aging rat approaching him.

"Well, my son, I was wondering where Donatello may have placed our credit card."

Raph raised an eye ridge in suspicion at that. "Why are you looking for it?"

"I'm afraid your brother took it out of my possession after I ordered that hair removal product. I can't see why…the stuff didn't even do anything."

"Um, right. Sure it didn't, sensei. But why do you need it now?"

"I saw a delightful infomercial on the television for a Betty Crocker cake product."

"But you don't even cook or bake, Master Splinter."

"I know, Raphael. But the voice on the television said it was a 'must buy'. I must comply with its request."

"You're joking, right?"

"When do I ever make amusing comments, my son?"

"Never?"

"Quite so. Now, where is the credit card?"

"I dunno, sensei. Don is asleep right now, but I'm sure you can ask him again lata."

With a sigh, Splinter nodded. "I suppose. It must be soon though. The voice said it was a limited time offer and to not delay."

Raph shook his head as his sensei left the room to go to the kitchen and said, "I'll be sure to tell Donnie that, Master Splinter."

Turning back to the computer screen, he muttered under his breath, "Jeez, our family is so screwed up."

Observing the screen, he saw Mikey changing into another costume. He had a purple sheet tied around his neck and a mask that looked suspiciously like one of Donatello's on…he was the Silver Sentry.

Curious, Raph decided to have his brothers watch this as well. After clapping his hands in front of Leo and endlessly poking Don to wake him, they watched this latest impression.

Michelangelo flexed and stared at his reflection. "I don't look bad at all. Hey, good lookin'," he said as he winked at the mirror.

Raph rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Oh please."

"In fact, I don't look fat at all. I thought I might though since I've been messing with the scale so it would look like my weight wasn't increasing. And my bros haven't even noticed!" Mikey stated to himself, quite pleased with the tricks he'd been pulling.

Meanwhile, in front of Don's computer, three turtles seethed with anger at the their pesky little brother's audacity to mess with things like that.

Raphael scowled. "He did what?"

Leaning back in his chair, Donnie shook his head in disbelief. "It all makes sense now. There was no way he really could have been losing weight like that."

"So what do we do now?" Leo questioned as he continued his knitting.

The red clad turtle smirked evilly as he glanced at his brothers. "I'd say a confrontation is in order…wouldn't you?"


	17. A Slight Miscalculation

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT…however, I would also like to point out that neither do you. Lol. ; )

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_A Slight Miscalculation_

Day 16

Log Entry 9

What a wonderful day this has been. Seriously, it was…a truly glorious day. Did anyone ever tell you that revenge is sweet? Oh so delectably sweet… Now, I am certainly not saying that going out to wreak havoc and seek revenge, but when the situation calls for it, justice must be met! Um, I think I just let out an evil cackle…

Anyway, as you may recall, Michelangelo's weight started at 180 at the beginning of Experiment Pizza. At his second weigh-in, his weight increased by two pounds, a feat amazing in of itself. My initial theory behind this slow weight gain was that Mikey simply had a high metabolism. After the third weigh-in, his weight inconceivably dropped to 174. Ludicrous, am I right? Who loses weight from eating pizza? Apparently, my little brother did.

So Raph, Leo, and I…we had some doubts about this miraculous occurrence. So, naturally, as older siblings are wont to do, we spied on him. What we discovered was beyond what we had imagined on seeing… I personally never want to see Mikey running around in white briefs pretending to fly around as Superman. As funny as it was, we turtles have our dignity, and my orange-clad brother definitely crossed a line.

Well, as we observed him, we heard his confession to tampering with the scale we had been using to weigh him so it would appear as if he wasn't gaining any extra pounds. As we witnessed this, we were tremendously outraged. Okay, okay. So I wasn't furious, but I was still pretty tweaked he was throwing off my experiment, Leo seemed somewhat passive about it all, and Raph…well, Raph was ready to go after Mike with a vengeance. No mercy, Raphael style. And shell, that can be scary.

Before my hotheaded brother had the chance to burst into our little brother's room and promptly put the comic book role-playing to an end, Leonardo and I held him back. The rest of that event occurred as follows:

"Let me go! Mikey is gonna get his shell kicked into next week!" Raphael protested, growling as Leo and I restrained him.

"Will you stop struggling, Raph? You're going to smudge the polish on my nails; they're not dry yet!" complained Leonardo as he desperately attempted to keep his flamingo pink nails in tact.

Raphael whipped his head around to face Leo and his eyes narrowed. "I told you this pansy act has got to stop! After I'm done with Mikey, you are so next, Leo!"

Abruptly, my katana-wielding brother released his hold on Raph. He stared at Raph in disbelief. "You wouldn't dare…"

Slowly, I let my grasp loosen on Raph as well. My red-clad brother glanced at me and looked back to Leonardo. "Uh…yeah, Leo. It's kind of what I do."

And with that response, Leo let out a terrified "eep!" and began running toward Master Splinter's quarters. As he ran, he shot back over his shoulder, "I'm telling!"

My jaw dropped open. I had never seen Leo act this way before. Sure, it had been funny before…the baking, the flamingos, the redecorating, even the knitting…but backing down from a fight with Raph? Something was seriously wrong with our fearless leader. I looked to Raphael and found a similar look of bewilderment across his face.

Raph noticed me staring at him and shook his head. "Did that seriously just happen?"

"I think so…"

"Jeez, Donnie, when did our family get so screwed up?"

"I haven't a clue…"

"Sure, Leo was acting a bit strangely before…you know, the weird names for new meditation positions and such, but this is just too much."

"You're telling me."

"What could be causing this?"

"I'm not sure," I replied, taking a seat in the chair by my desk. Raph followed my lead and pulled up a chair.

Raphael recognized me going into my 'thinking mode', the one where I have a look of contemplation on my face and my eyes rarely blink (my bros tell me it's kind of creepy), because I don't hear him speak for awhile.

My thought process is interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. There stood Leo, cautiously inching his way closer to my lab set-up. He was looking at the ground, as if the sewer floor were amazingly entertaining.

We shared a glance with one another before Raph spoke to Leo. "Look, Leo, I'm not gonna fight with you," he spoke reassuringly in a tone I didn't even know my angry brother possessed.

Leonardo looked up from the floor and whispered, "Promise?"

Raph nodded his had encouragingly. "Promise."

This seemed like an acceptable answer for my eldest brother, and he sat back down with us. I questioned him, "I thought you went to go talk to Master Splinter."

Slowly, Leo nodded. "I did…but he said that he was busy."

"Busy with what?" Raph asked.

"He said something about applying for a new credit card account…"

"What!" I yelled. "I took the one we have away from him because he won't stop buying things from the Home Shopping Network. He went over our credit limit already. The collectors will be breathing down our necks for late payments for a year!"

I felt a hand on my shoulder attempting to calm me down. "It's okay, Don. I doubt that Master Splinter even knows how to do that."

Shakily, I took in deep breaths to prevent the onslaught of a hyperventilation attack. "You're right…he has a bad credit history anyway…"

Glancing at Leonardo, I found he had resumed knitting the sweater he had started for Splinter. I shook my head again for what felt like the thousandth time…poor sensei…still wondering about those 'pesky drafts'.

While Leo was currently occupied, Raph leaned over and whispered to me, "Uh, as much as I want to pummel Mikey for being a bonehead, I think we should get to the bottom of whatever is making Leo so crazy."

Nodding in agreement, I cleared my throat and entered 'detective mode'.

"So, Leo, made any big changes lately?" I began.

Briefly looking up from his knitting, Leo smiled and replied, "Yeah."

"What kind of changes?"

"Oh, it's been great, Donnie. A lot of new doors have been opened for me. I discovered the world of baking, new types of meditation, my buried affection for flamingos, and redecorating my room and the dojo."

Redecorating…redecorating…the word struck a chord with me for some reason. I thought for a moment…and then it hit me. I proceeded to slap myself on the forehead for not thinking of it before!

Raph looked uneasily at me. "What is it?"

Giving him a look that said, "Hang on a second", I turned my questioning back to Leo.

"Redecorating? Oh, you mean when you repainted the dojo yellow."

"Canary yellow," Leo corrected.

"Right…canary yellow. Did you ever paint your room?"

"Yup, I painted it blue."

I could hear Raphael mutter behind me, "Big surprise there."

Ignoring his comment, I continued pressing my older brother with inquiries. "Did you put the fans in the dojo to dissipate the fumes from the paint like I told you to, Leo?"

Leonardo paused in his kitting and pondered upon this for a moment. "Yup, just like you told me to, Donnie."

Leaning forward in my chair, I asked, "And did you make sure to put some fans in your room as well?"

The blue-clad turtle looked as if he was about to say yes, but halted. "Umm…no?"

My eyes closed in acceptance of what he had just told me. It confirmed my theory.

"Leo, so you're telling us that you've been sleeping in a newly painted room for the past four days with poor ventilation and no fans?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Bro, solvent based paints can release high levels of volatile organic compounds when freshly applied, and for days afterwards. Even when paint is dry, it will continue to emit volatile organic compounds," I explained.

Raph turned to me with a dumbfounded stare. "And that means…?"

I let out an exasperated chuckle, completely overwhelmed by the misdeeds and misfortunes of my family. "It means that Leo is pretty much goofed up on paint fumes."

"Shell…no wonder he's been acting so strange!"

Giving Leonardo another tap to get his attention away for just one more second from that infernal sweater, I ordered, "Tonight you're sleeping on the couch, and we are putting a whole horde of fans in your room."

He answered in response, "Sure, whatever. But look!" Leo stood up held out his creation of….yarn…wool…string? I really haven't a clue. "I finished Master Splinter's sweater, so now he won't be cold down here!"

After that giddy proclamation, Leo skipped happily away to find their sensei and bestow upon him his warm, fuzzy gift.

Raph rolled his eyes and turned to me. "Can we finally go knock some sense into Mikey? Please?"

Staring at the tampered with scale, I nudged it with my foot. I turned my gaze upon my red-clad brother and smirked. Yes, that's right. Me, Donatello…I smirked. "I have a better idea."

Unsurprisingly, Raph returned my smirk with a devious one of his own. "What did you have in mind?"

"Something that will teach Mikey a lesson about meddling in science, but it will take me the rest of the day to get it right."

"You need my help?"

"I'll need your help manipulating our dear little brother, but not at the moment."

With a nod, Raph stood from his seat and left me to my work… Yes, tomorrow we would have our revenge…

* * *

My workings had taken me a little longer than I had surmised, but it would be well worth it. In this entry, I've regaled you of yesterday's happenings, and now I shall reveal to you my maniacal plan of revenge that unfolded today, this 16th day of Experiment Pizza. Even now at this late hour, I still find myself chuckling here and there as I right…my plan had worked ever so perfectly. I shall no longer keep you in suspense and retell this day's events: 

With I tired yawn, I left my room this morning. As I already told you, my ministrations took long into the night, leaving me a bit tired. I entered the lair to find Leonardo sleeping on the couch as I had informed him to. Raph was already up waiting at my lab set-up. I had already discussed the finer details of the plot with him the night before. Everything was set. And best of all, Michelangelo was completely unaware of a thing.

Out of no where, Leo bolted up into a sitting position breathing deeply. I felt an expression of concern cross my visage, so I asked him, "Leo, are you okay?"

He briefly looked around and sighed. "Yeah, Don, but I just I had the freakiest nightmare."

"Really?" I questioned as I shared a worried glance with Raph. "What was it about?"

"It was strange…there were flamingos dancing as they were knitting and baking. One of them told me I should meditate with it."

Behind me, I could hear Raphael attempting to stifle a laugh. "Leo, do you remember anything from the last few days?"

"Uh, come to think of it, no…not really. Why?"

"No reason. I think you've just been really tired lately."

"Oh," Leo answered, and with that, he pushed him up off the couch and headed for his room.

I went to my lab chair and began finalizing some things with Raph.

"So you got it to work?" Raph asked excitedly.

"You bet," I answered, quite pleased with myself.

"Excellent, I'll go get the video camera from my room."

Just then a less than dignified scream tore through the air. It was Leo.

"Who the shell painted my room? And why are my nails pink?"

I shook my head in amusement and partially pity for my confused brother.

"You did!" I yelled back.

There was no response.

Curious, I got up to see if Leonardo was alright. Upon entering his room, I found that he had fainted. Even more intrigued, I wonder what caused him to faint…glancing around the room, I guessed his gaze had fallen upon his porcelain pink flamingo collection that he had amassed over the last few days. Don't ask me where he got them…

With a shrug, I made sure he wasn't hurt from his fall, and I returned to my computer.

Raph was joyously awaiting me with the video camera. "Ready?"

I smiled and said, "Ready."

Walking to Mike's room, I patiently knocked on his door. "Hey Mikey, can you come out here for a second?"

The door opened to reveal my orange-clad brother and his happy expression. "Sure, Donnie, what's up?"

"I'd like to go over some things for the experiment."

"No prob, bro."

We relocated ourselves at my lab, and Raph readied the camera.

Gesturing for Mikey to sit, I began to speak. "I'm concerned about the results we acquired yesterday during your weigh-in."

Michelangelo noticeably shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Okay…"

"I want to take another go at it." At that, Mikey perked up a bit, still assuming the scale to be broken from all of his secret tinkering with it.

Standing up, he stepped up onto the scale and glanced down with his brothers at his weight…

"221 lbs.?" Mikey screeched. "You have got to be kidding me?"

With an expression of concern painted across his features, Raph said, "Is that what is says? Yeesh, Mike…you really piled those pounds on, huh?"

Mikey whimpered as he stared in disbelief at the scale. He really had no clue as to how that could happen.

"Why did you think the read out yesterday was wrong? Maybe it was right… I really could be losing weight," Michelangelo ventured.

I shook my head. "I don't think so…it's highly improbable. Besides, I had a look at the scale and gave it a tune up."

"You fixed it?"

"Yeah, why?"

Slightly coughing, Mikey looked at the floor. "Uh, no reason."

"Well, if you don't think you've put on that much weight, maybe you should stand in front of the mirror to see if you think you look different," Raphael suggested, raising the camera back up to record it all.

This idea brightened our little brother's mood a bit, and he stepped in front of the mirror, which was conveniently set up in my lab.

As he looked at his reflection, Mikey's eyes bulged out as his image showed him a very round, fat looking Michelangelo. "Gah! What happened?"

He turned every which way to look at every angle, but found the same thing staring right back at him—an obese ninja.

Mikey put his face in his hands and began to mutter. "How did this happen? Why, oh why? My wonderful good looks ruined!"

Raph reached out to place a hand on his shoulder to console him. "It's okay, Mike. Just look at it this way, be grateful it didn't all go to your butt."

His eyes widened and stared at the reflection of his bottom and whimpered. "Eep!" Mikey continued to moan and groan at his misfortune.

Deciding to take pity upon my brother, I spoke up. "Oh, wait a minute…"

My little brother looked up at me and questioned, "What is it?"

"I think I made a slight miscalculation…"

"You did?" Mikey asked hopefully.

"Perhaps…" I replied as I continued to lead him on.

Raph agreed. "Yeah, Don, don't you think it could have been when Mikey began to tamper with your scale so his weight wouldn't look like it was increasing?"

Eyes widening, Michelangelo then realized he had been discovered. We both turned our angry gazes upon him as he slowly backed away.

"Aw, come on, guys. It was just a joke, and it looks like I'm fat anyway. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Finally, Raph couldn't stifle another laugh or chuckle as he let them stream out of his mouth. I joined him in quite befitting amusement.

Mikey gave us an odd look and said, "Hey, what's so funny?"

I wiped some tears from my eyes and explained, "You're not fat, Mikey. Maybe a little bit plumper from all the pizzas, as it is to be expected, but you're not fat."

He gave us a puzzled look.

Our older brother took over in the explanations. "We figured out your little secret yesterday, Mike. So we decided to get back at you. Donnie made the scale give the wrong read out on purpose and warped the dimensions of the mirror."

"What does that mean?"

I picked it up then. "It means, it's like a funhouse mirror…you know the ones that make you look shorter, thinner, taller…and fat."

As we finished our explanation, we broke out into more fits of laughter and tears.

Michelangelo seemed less amused. "Ha ha, real funny guys. I guess I kinda deserved it, but now we're even."

I recovered from the laughing fits before Raph and consented. "You're right, now we're even. There will be no more messing up my experiment. You volunteered to help me, and we'll run this thing the way I see fit. So get back up on that scale so we can finally get a correct reading of your weight."

Shrugging, Mike stepped up once more onto the scale and read it out loud. "192."

I checked it myself to make sure he wasn't lying, and I wrote down the number. "That's about what I guessed it would be, Mikey. Considering you've been eating nothing but pizza for the last 16 days, I'd say you've actually managed not to gain that much extra weight."

He glanced at me suspiciously. "Really?"

Smiling, I said, "Really."

"Cool then. Later bros!" Mikey shouted as he ran back to his room, probably to continue his talent in the area of superhero impersonations.

The day continued without much of a hitch. Leo recovered from his faint. He promptly removed all traces of pink nail polish, knitting needles, porcelain flamingos, cook books, and lotions. However, I do recall seeing Master Splinter asking Leo if he could make him a scarf to match the sweater he had made for him…

Mikey continued to devour his precious pizzas at lunch and dinner. The weight gain has not fazed him in the least.

Raph…well, Raph went to Casey's to share the footage of our sweet revenge.

And me? Well, at this late hour, I'm growing a bit tired. I spent the rest of the day savoring the knowledge that my project was back on track…as well as my family. Leonardo seemed to be recovering from his strange paint fume induced behavior, Mikey hasn't lost his appetite, Raph still gets a kick out of tormenting Mikey, but Master Splinter…I can't really explain his behavior. He's another story entirely. But things are getting better…they couldn't get any worse, right?


	18. You Won't Tell, Will You?

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT...but I will tell you this...I can certainly dream. 'displays goofy smile'

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_You Won't Tell, Will You?_

Day 20 (_general pov_)

The previous three days passed peacefully for the most part in the lair of the terrapin ninjas and their befuddled master. Their lives, despite the recent strange happenings that had begun with Donatello's Experiment Pizza, were gradually returning to...uh, well, not normally exactly, but definitely more tame. In Donnie's mind, the worst was over and nothing else could possibly go wrong.

Leo was back on a strict schedule...one for training...he had returned to ten mile runs around the sewers and meditating on the floor (but deep down, a part of him missed his 'flamingo at the ready' pose, whether he was turtle enough to admit it or not). And he had a regular schedule to keep his visits with his dear 'ol porcelain friend--thanks to Mikey's wonderful eating habits (little in this particular area had changed).

Raph was becoming quite the cinematographer...telling Mikey to change the angle he was eating a greasy slice of pizza at or have him sit in a "better light" in the kitchen. And now instead of simply sharing his precious blackmail with Casey, he had started charging him a viewing fee, and then he was required to fill out a critique of what he had seen. Perhaps Raphael was hoping to win a film festival with his riveting footage documenting Experiment Pizza?

Mikey was content with his pizza binge eating; he was also adjusting to his growing waistline--hours in front of the television easily distracted him from that. However, his new attitude toward his brothers was not very pleasing to his siblings...declaring himself too weak and unfit to get things for himself, Michelangelo had claimed the couch and television on his own. He had his brothers serving him his every whim...whether that is a fresh pizza to scarf down or a foot massage. Wait, scratch the foot massage...that's right...Raph smacked him upside the head for even requesting that one.

Donnie was finally pleased with the progression his experiment...and his family for that matter. Tomorrow he would have Mikey do his third initial weigh-in. On the side, he was even getting a few other engineering projects done. While he couldn't sit very long writing observations of his orange-clad brother eating in a grotesque manner, he was seeing trends in his predictions about his brother's weight gain. Donatello had predicted the further along in the experiment they were, the more lethargic and unmotivated Mike would become. His new conquest of the couch as a self-proclaimed "King of the Couch Potatoes" was proof of that.

Stretching in his chair, Don let out a lazy yawn as he watched his computer shut down for the night. The day had passed by without a hitch...a welcome to be certain, after the craziness that had grabbed hold of the lair over the last week or so. Yes, things couldn't have been going any better. Standing up and cracking his neck, Donnie gathered up his papers and filed them neatly away; as he clicked off his desk lamp, he let a satisfied sigh escape.

"Another wonderful day with no disturbances. No Leo complaining that Raph is being mean to him and asking me to try his baked goods. No Raph pestering me to use my computer to edit his footage of Mikey stuffing himself silly. No Splinter..." Donnie paused as he brought up his sensei to himself. Now that was one thing that had not returned to normal. His wise and caring ninja master had certainly not been himself recently. The last few days Splinter had spent his time wandering around the lair looking a bit lost and uninterested in anything. Leo had kept his duties as playing "sensei" again now that he was fully recovered from what Don and Raphael had starting calling "The Infamous Paint Fume Incident, yet they continued to prod and poke fun at their blue-clad brother for his few days of flamingo pink obsession. Never mind that...but come to think of it...where was Splinter?

As Donatello thought longer about it as he leaned against his desk, he hadn't seen his master at all today. With a shrug, Don assumed he was probably meditating the day away. But then again...in his "new state of mind," who knew where the aging rat could have gotten to. Decision made, Donnie set out to see if his brothers could tell him where Master Splinter was. An easy enough task, right?

As it was about 8:23pm, Don knew he would find Mikey in the kitchen eating his 8:23pm slice of pizza. Why Mikey had picked that particular point in time to be designated as a specific time for him to have a slice of pizza was beyond the purple-clad turtle. But not many can understand the inner workings of Michelangelo's twisted mind, so there you go. In fact, Don was even surprised that Mikey had gotten up off the couch himself to make himself a pizza. He had probably tried asking Raph or Leo, only to be utterly rejected.

Upon entering the doorway of the kitchen, Donnie shook his head in disbelief and stood as a silent witness to the scene unfolding before him.

Raph had told Don about Mikey's musical rendition of "Les Poisson," or rather "Les Pizzas," but it was entirely different thing to see it first hand. Mikey was unknowingly putting on another musical performance for one of his brothers at his own expense. He hummed off-key as he glided around the kitchen gathering all of the different variations of his favorite pizza concoctions. However, Donnie was pretty sure that the lyrics of the song Mikey began belting out had already been changed from its original version even as his brother altered them a bit more to meet his own needs...

Michelangelo began twirling about the kitchen and the song that chose to erupt itself from his throat at that moment was "Fat," by Weird Al...oh Mikey and his choice in music...

Spinning around, Mikey stopped the blender from churning and poured a nice, cool glass of pureed sausage pizza and chugged it down without missing a beat as he continued to get his turtle groove on.

Heading toward the freezer, Mikey busted a few impressive disco moved and retrieved a frozen version of the pizza smoothie he had just drank on a stick and began languidly licking at his chilled treat.

The buzzer on the oven trilled; Mikey boogie-woogied his way to it and popped open the oven to retrieve his delectable, mouth-watering, grease-drenched circle of cheesy delight. Folding it into an impossibly small ball, he tossed the crumpled pizza into his mouth and swallowed, continuing on with his 'Turtle Idol' performance.

As the last note sounded from his voice, Mikey slid across the floor finishing with a spectacular finale on his imaginary air guitar impressing thousands of cheering fans with his mad guitar skills. That is...until the sound of someone clapping broke him out of his little fantasy, making him realize he had a real audience.

Donnie stood above him in the doorway with an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at his little brother. "Glad to know you're embracing your recent weight gains, Mikey."

Sheepishly, Mike rubbed the back of his neck as he picked himself up off the floor. "Uh...yeah. How long were you standing there?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah..."

"The whole time."

"You won't tell anyone, will you? Especially Raph..."

"Trust me, Mikey; this little performance of yours is the least of your worries. After all the footage Raphael has captured of you over the last, what is it? Twenty days? He's got enough dirt on you for a lifetime."

Michelangelo's eyes widened considerably. "You mean he's been recording me to use the stuff for blackmail?"

"You didn't know that?" Don asked as he raised an eye ridge in speculation.

"No! He told me it was for scientific purposes!"

Shaking his head, Donnie placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Oh, Mikey. Remember when we learned along time ago not to listen to everything Raph tells us?"

Solemnly nodding his head, Mikey responded, "You mean the time he told me that there were dead hornets in the cream-filled center of a Hostess cupcake, so I'd be too afraid to eat them, then he could eat them all?"

"Uh...yeah, that. But I was thinking of the time he told you that we were supposed to be naturally colored blue instead of green, and you attempted to color yourself from head to toe with a blue Crayola marker," Don reminisced.

"I had sort of repressed the memory of that one..." Mike trailed off.

Donnie apologized. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring up a bad moment from childhood. Anyway, the whole reason I came in here was to ask you if you had seen Master Splinter anywhere."

Pausing to think for a moment, Michelangelo shook his head. "Nope, haven't seen him at all today. Well, later Don. Time for me to get reacquainted with the love of my life."

With a call after him, Donatello shouted, "You mean the TV? Mikey, don't refer to the televisions as your love!"

"Don't mock me, bro! I was going to let you be the Best Man, er Turtle, whatever...at the wedding, but if you're going to be like that, I'll just have to ask Raph then!"

Leaving to go in search of the brother he had just named, Don muttered, "Yeah, you do that...Raph would love that..."

The first thing Donatello noticed as he entered the warehouse was that every light, save one, was turned off.

'Hm...Raph can't be working on the Shell Cycle with so few lights on...I wonder what he's up to,' thought Donnie, silently wondering to himself if he would regret that thought.

Yup, he did.

On the other side of the Battle Shell, Don almost burst out into laughter at the scene that played out before him, but he remained silent to watch it continue to develop...

Raph sat on the ground with his shell resting against the vehicle talking to an imaginary audience...it was scary how Donnie kept walking into situations with his brothers talking/singing to people that were clearly not there. Clutched to his chest was a wrench, and Raph was caressing it as if it were the most valuable item in the world.

Seeming to struggle with what to say, Raph stared out at his imaginary audience and began with, "Wow, I'm practically unprepared. Forty-five seconds is such a short time to thank all of the wonderful people that were involved in this project. But this is my forty-five seconds...my moment of glory. I was going to thank all the little people, but then I remembered I am the little people. I've loved being hated by you...me, the cruel director that exploited his own little brother for fame and riches. This is a great firmament of our nation's generosities. The Academy epitomized the prodigal, pure human kindness for giving me this award. I mean, come on...you like me, you really like me!"

Don stifled another chuckle as he began to notice that every word his sai-wielding brother was spouting was stolen from Oscar acceptance speeches from years past.

Continuing, Raph spoke on. "I want to thank...everybody I ever met in my entire life...Casey, April, Master Splinter, Leo...Mikey...you did a great job making a fool of yourself, bro. And Donnie...who without coming up with a half-witted experiment, none of this would have been possible. Thank you! Thank you all so much!"

Accepting the thunderous applause after his speech from his devoted and invisible audience, Raph stood and turned...only to face a purple-clad brother attempting to keep a straight face. Quickly realizing what his brainy brother was probably laughing at, he waved the wrench that he still clutched tightly in one hand at Donnie. "All right, Brainiac. Show is over...nothing to see here...right? You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Donatello could easily see that his brother was threatening him to make sure he stayed silent. "No, Raph...I won't tell. But you're wrong...there was a lot to see...like your wonderfully scripted acceptance speech performance!"

Not amused at all, Raphael silently fumed as Don double over with laughter while angrily tapping his foot. "Was there something you wanted?"

From his fallen position on the floor, Donnie wiped away the tears from his eyes that were a result of him laughing so hard. "Yeah, have you seen Master Splinter at all today?"

With a huff, Raph sauntered over to begin work on the Shell Cycle and growled out a response. "No, I ain't seen sensei all day."

"Thanks, Raph. I'll go ask Leo if he's seen him," Don replied as he made his way for the elevator to take him back down to the lair. Before he entered it though, he snickered, "Oh, and thanks for mentioning me in your acceptance speech."

Barely dodging the screwdriver that was aimed for his head, Donnie laughed as the elevator door closed.

Back in the lair, Donatello wandered across to the dojo where he was sure he would find his other elder brother hard at work on perfecting his ninjitsu skills. Much to his surprise, although he was being surprised by all of his brothers this particular evening, found something that he definitely was not expecting... He looked on in morbid fascination as Leo continued on with his business, completely unaware of his brother watching him.

Cross-legged on the floor, Leo had positioned next to him in a tiny circle of dolls and one conspicuous flamingo. In the center of the circle was a plate of cookies, and each guest had a cup as Leo poured hot water into each of them. Donnie's eyes widened in disbelief...it couldn't be...but yes, sadly it was...Leo was hosting a tea party.

Leonardo sat happily as he conversed with each of his guests.

"So, how has everyone been?" he politely began as he set down the tea pot. Leo glanced at the doll with red hair. "Raggedy Ann? You look like you've had a tough day. Would you like to talk about it?"

Donnie almost half-expected the lifeless doll to respond with the serious manner his brother was talking to it.

"No? Well, we all understand. Have a cookie. Barbie, I must say that I love what you've done with your hair. And Mrs. Pink (the flamingo), fly anywhere interesting lately?"

"Really? It must be quite tiring...flapping your wings such a very long distance. What's that? Yeah, sometimes I get tired while I train, but it's all part of being a ninja."

"Barbie, you think so? I always thought the color of my mask kind of clashed with my skin tone..."

Leo was interrupted in his conversation with the inanimate objects as Don burst into the room, unable to watch it any longer. The blue-clad jumped up and desperately tried to cover up the dolls and tea set. He put his hands out in front of him as his brother stood in front of him with his arms crossed against his plastron and a look that said, "Yeah, I saw that."

Struggling for words, Leo began, "Don, this isn't what it looks like."

"Oh, I think it is exactly what it looks like," Donatello retorted. "Why in the world were you having a tea party? In the dojo of all places? Never mind about where you're having it...why are you doing this, Leo?"

"Um..."

"Are the paint fumes still lingering in your room?"

"No, it's not that. I'm fine...really. It's just that...I kind of missed the stuff I was doing over that last week. I'm not gonna paint my nails or anything anymore, Don...I'm just...uh, exploring a different part of myself."

"Yeah, I'll say it's different."

Leonardo looked at his little brother with pleading eyes. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Shaking his head in resignation, "No, Leo. I won't tell anyone."

After releasing a sigh of relief, Leonardo asked, "Was there something else you wanted then?"

"Oh right," Donnie said as he recalled his original reason for coming in there. "Have you seen Master Splinter at all today?"

"No," responded Leo immediately. "I don't think I've seen him at all today. Why?"

Don paused thinking for a moment. "It's just that I haven't seen him, Mikey hasn't, Raph hasn't, and you haven't...so..." It hit Donnie like a ton of bricks. "Aw shell...he's not in the lair at all...is he?"

Sharing his brother's distressed look, Leo gasped, "Uh oh..."

_tbc..._

_

* * *

A/N: YAY! It's a miracle! I updated! You all thought I forgot about this story, didn't you? Psh, how could I? Especially after this bad boy tied for first for BEST COMEDY in the 2005 TMNT Fanfic Competition...WHOO! BTW, thanks to all of you that voted for my story. It really means a lot to me. I don't know how soon the next chapter of 'PoP' will be out...I can't make any promises. I'm just so busy with school. Why didn't anyone tell me that college would be difficult? lol, jk. Oh, and I finally finished my tiny website for my TMNT fanfics...go check it out! Just click on the homepage thing in my profile. Thanks for readin'! That's all for now! Ja ne: )_

Oh, and I don't own the excerpts from those Oscar acceptance speeches. lol.


	19. Where is Master Splinter?

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT…unless anyone wants to go in with me on purchasing the rights? What do you guys think? Any takers? Lol

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Where is Master Splinter?_

Day 21 (_general pov)_

We last left our heroes in the lair at the end of the 20th day of Experiment Pizza. And to the horror of the four terrapin ninjas, they discovered that their beloved sensei was no where to be found. With his current befuddled state of mind, Master Splinter was in no condition to be missing and wandering around lost in the huge place that is NYC.

The few hours remaining of the night had disappeared, as well as most of the morning as the four brothers prepared a plan. Where does an aging rat who knows ninjitsu go exactly? The turtles wasted precious hours brainstorming of where to look rather than actually searching.

Leonardo has suggested that Splinter went in search of a more solitary place to meditate. That idea was immediately shot down by Raphael.

"Are you kidding, Leo? Master Splinter hasn't meditated for weeks now, and he hasn't been teaching our lessons for just as long," reasoned Raph.

"Fine," Leo huffed. "Where do you think he went?"

Raph shrugged. "I dunno…maybe he went to the grocery store for more chips and dip. We were running low and the big game is this weekend. He could have just wanted to stock up."

"Riiight, sensei went to the grocery store and then stayed there for the entire night and a good part of the morning," ridiculed Michelangelo, crossing his arms showing his disagreement with his red-clad brother's guess.

"Alright, genius, where do you think he is?" Raph shot at his orange-clad brother.

"My bet, he took the bus or train to Jersey to hit up the beaches and the boardwalk," Mikey announced in all seriousness.

All of his brothers rolled their eyes, and they looked to Don for a guess. The purple-clad turtle didn't have a realistic answer either. "I don't know…maybe he stopped by April or Casey's places."

"It's a start. All right, here's the plan," Leo stated with importance. "We spread out across the city and begin searching for sensei. We know he's out there somewhere as he took one of the trench coats and a fedora. Raph and I will go to Casey's first to ask for help, and then we'll head downtown to search from the rooftops. Mikey and Don, you stop by April's to ask her for a hand and search the streets."

Michelangelo tried to cover up a snicker, as Don glared at his younger brother. "What's the problem, Mikey?" asked Leo. "We need to get moving."

"Are you sure it's such a good idea that Donnie and I head to April's?" inquired Mike as he held back a few more chuckles.

Leo's face sported an expression of confusion. "Why not? April will be able to help us cover more ground. And maybe Splinter turned up at her place at some point."

"It's just that the last time April spoke to Donnie, he ended up with a few bruises and a beat up face!" laughed Mikey hysterically.

Raph let loose a smirk. "Hey, that's right. She still hasn't forgiven you, Donnie?"

Don gave a shrug of defeat. "April hasn't spoken to me since then…she's still mad at me for coming up with Experiment Pizza."

"She can't still be mad; April isn't one to hold a grudge," Leonardo reasoned. "Girls are more forgiving about this type of thing."

Letting out a massive laugh, Raphael retorted, "Oh, you mean like Karai has forgiven you for your misdeeds against her? She has a pretty big grudge against you!"

"Shut up, Raph," Leo resentfully stated. "That's different. And besides, she has clearly forgotten about it since the Foot is still in Florida for their clan reunion."

"Dude, maybe it's like a conspiracy," Mikey ventured.

"What do you mean?" Leo asked.

Michelangelo's eyes got wide and began to speak in a hushed tone. "What if they're not really on vacation? They could be plotting our doom as we speak!"

Raph rolled his eyes as Mikey continued spouting theories and frantically throwing his arms about in a panic.

"They could really be in Florida to capture alligators to train and maim us the next time we fight! And I'm sure we probably taste delicious…Or what if they're buying a yacht and ambush us, then take us out to international waters and make us walk the plank! Or what if they're going to brainwash all of the elderly retired folks that live in gated communities to attack us! Can you imagine how much it would hurt to be hit by a walker or cane?" Mikey continued to rant.

"Mike, Master Splinter hits you on the head with his walking stick all of the time, and you're still alive…unfortunately," Raphael pointed out to his orange-clad brother.

"Yeah, but what if the Foot is…OW!" Mikey shouted as Donnie struck him on the head with his bo staff. "What was that for?"

"I think we're all forgetting the problem at hand here…we have to look for Master Splinter, remember?" Donatello stated with a less than amused look on his face.

Leo nodded. "Don's right. Let's get started looking…who knows where sensei may have gotten off to."

All four of the turtles finalized the plan and left the lair around noon in search of their sensei.

* * *

**Meanwhile…on the streets of NYC…**

"What a lovely window display!" gushed Master Splinter at the festive display in the window of a department store. The aging rat was quite the amusing sight as he waddled down the sidewalk with his cane, draped in a trench coat that hung ridiculously loose on his small frame and his snout stuck out from underneath the fedora. His whiskers twitched excitedly as he looked about, and his tail just stuck a teeny bit out from underneath the coat. No one seemed to notice…hey, this is NYC.

The rat ninja master continued on his merry way down the sidewalk, walking block after block as he took in the sights and sounds of the city. Splinter had already experienced many exciting things throughout the night. When he had grown tired of wandering around the lair, he decided a change of scenery was in order. After grabbing a disguise, Splinter had exited the lair for a little sightseeing of the city.

_The afternoon/day before:_

Splinter left the lair around 3pm and had many hours of daylight before he had to find a place to stay for the night. Splinter was quite pleased with himself. How clever he had been in eluding his four sons! They hadn't even noticed he had left the lair as they were all much too submersed in their own activities.

First he ventured out around the city to take in some of the local color. After riding around in a cab for an hour trying to figure out what the driver was saying to him, Splinter exited the vehicle and gone to look for sustenance. As it was getting late in the day, he found himself wolfing down a hot dog from a vendor on a street corner.

Once it grew dark, the city was still bustling with life and lights and people were everywhere. Finding some money in the pocket of the trench coat he was wearing, Splinter found quite a large sum of money that one of his sons must have forgotten to put away after wearing the coat, but where they had gotten that much money, he did not know. Master Splinter decided to catch a show that evening. He wasn't exactly dressed for the theater, but apparently it didn't matter as he attended the performance of Phantom of the Opera at the Majestic Theater without a hitch.

Quite weary from his busy afternoon and evening, Splinter found a secluded alley with many boxes that made for an adequate shelter for the evening. Once he had scavenged a few blankets, the ninjitsu master curled up happily in his makeshift burrow for the night.

The following morning, Splinter rose early and decided to visit some of New York City's more well-known tourist locations. Catching an early ride on the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty, Splinter was astounded by the height and majesty of the enormous landmark. Indeed, it made him feel quite small. After thoroughly exploring the monument and the area surrounding it, Splinter took the ferry back and decided to do some window shopping.

Thus, bringing us back to where we left the bemused rat. Not once during the day had it occurred to Splinter that his sons may be out looking for him or that it may not have been such a good idea to walk amongst the humans in broad daylight. Merrily, Splinter continued his adventure.

_tbc…_

* * *

_A/N: Read on! There's another new chapter after this one! Keep reading: )_


	20. Back and Forth

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. I just like to play with them a little bit. Teehee.

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Back and Forth_

Day 21 (_general pov_) continued…

**Meanwhile…during a frantic search for a lost ninjitsu master…**

"Casey, what in the world is taking you so long?" Raphael called as he stood with his katana-wielding brother on the fire escape of the vigilante's building.

With a shout from the other room, Casey yelled, "I can't find my bat!"

Releasing a heavy sigh of frustration, Raph shouted back, "Who cares! You already have a hockey stick and two golf clubs. We're not going out looking for heads to bash; we're looking for Master Splinter."

Casey appeared at the window and climbed through, and the three headed up to the rooftops to begin their search. "I still can't believe we're looking for Master Splinter. How did you guys just lose him like that?"

As they continued running along the rooftops, Leo scowled. "We didn't lose him. We just didn't know he left the lair unannounced. He's been acting so strange lately."

"Sounds like it," commented Casey. "Did his fur ever grow completely back?"

Raphael snorted. "For the most part it did…but there are a couple of bare patches. I think it's because he keeps scratching at his skin. He kept complaining it was itchy."

Casey chuckled. "You guys have to have the most screwed up family ever."

Leo and Raph shared a look as they were clearly not amused with the attacks on the quirkiness of their family. They remedied the situation immediately.

Watching the turtles' retreating shells, Casey whined, "Oh, come on guys. I was kidding!"

The brothers continued to walk away as Casey struggled to escape from the bonds that tied him to the flag pole that was protruding from the side of the building they were currently on.

"This isn't funny! We're like six stories up!" whimpered Casey.

"Think we should let him go, Raph?" asked Leo innocently.

Raphael offered his brother a smirk. "Nah, let's call Mikey and Don to check up on them. Maybe they've found something."

"Sounds good," agreed Leonardo. "We'll give them a quick call."

* * *

**Meanwhile…outside Miss O'Neil's window…**

"YEOUCH!"

Don's pained cry echoed through the neighborhood and sent a nearby flock of birds flying. Sorely, the purple-clad turtle rubbed his stinging cheek that was quickly turning into a red hand print.

That's when the yelling began.

"Donatello, I cannot believe you! You LOST Master Splinter?" fumed April from inside her apartment above her antique store.

Mikey chose to respond for his brainy brother who was still recovering from his slight injury. "We didn't lose him…exactly. We just didn't know he had left the lair."

April responded, "There's hardly a difference, Mike! And from what Raph told me about the way Master Splinter has been behaving as of late, he could be anywhere and into any amount of trouble at this point!"

"Don't freak, April. We'll find him," comforted Michelangelo.

With another huff, April muttered, "Guys are such morons."

Afraid to speak up, Donnie meekly asked, "So are you going to help us look for him?"

"Yes, but I'm only helping because I'm worried about Master Splinter. You are still not forgiven for this whole disastrous experiment!" April yelled with a vengeance. "And you!"

"Who, me?" Mikey pointed to himself in confusion.

"Yes, you. You're in trouble, too. I can't believe you would agree to something like this that could put your health at risk," April scolded. "You guys are so irresponsible…it's ridiculous!"

"Um, April, we should probably start searching. Master Splinter has a few hours on us…" Don intervened.

"How long has he been missing?"

"Uh…since sometime yesterday afternoon," Mike answered.

"OW!"

"OW!"

Cries of discomfort were let out as April whacked both the turtles on their heads for their stupidity. "And you only started looking for him now!"

Mikey absently rubbed his aching head and responded, "Yeah…Leo said we needed a plan before we went out to go looking for him."

"Where are Leo and Raph anyway?"

Don said, "They went to Casey's to get him to help."

Just then, Donnie's Shell Cell began to ring and said turtle moved to answer it. However, before he could, it was snatched from his grasp by an angry red head.

"What are you doing, April?" Don asked, stunned that she had grabbed the cell away from him that quickly.

"I have a few choice words for, Leo…" seethed April as she flipped open the cell.

Mikey murmured, "Uh oh…"

A voice could be heard on the other end of the line. "Hello? Don? Are you there?"

The screaming began anew.

* * *

**Meanwhile…in Central Park…**

Happily skipping down the path, Splinter took in a deep breath of air. What a glorious afternoon! Window shopping had been wonderful. The aging rat had been very tempted to buy a Coach scarf he had spotted in one of the windows. He thought the pink shade of the silk scarf would go very well with the shade of his fur. But alas, he didn't have the proper monetary funds to purchase it.

About two hours before, Master Splinter had happened upon the large expanse of land that is Central Park. He had explored the paths getting lost among the many twists and turns. He had chatted with some friendly squirrels for a short time, wishing he had a bushy tail like theirs. He had observed the ducks on the water, swimming and paddling about…which also led to Splinter losing his balance and falling into the water as he tried to get a closer look at the feathered creatures.

To dry off, he had lounged on a bench letting the rays of the afternoon sun dry his coat, hat, and fur. As he now sat there peacefully, an elderly woman took a seat beside him. She had with her a white paper bag filled with seeds. Splinter watched in fascination as she began scattering the seeds to the flock of pigeons that had collected near the bench.

"The park is nice this time of year, isn't it?" commented the elderly lady to Splinter.

He sighed. "Yes, indeed…it is nice."

"Would you like to feed the pigeons, too?"

"Sure."

Splinter scooped up a paw full of seeds and dashed them across the ground here and there for the pigeons to gobble up.

The old woman and Master Splinter began talking and soon they were laughing like old friends. The hour had grown late and the light of the day had quickly passed by. They parted ways from the bench, but not before the woman handed Splinter a folded up piece of paper.

The rat stared at the piece of paper for a moment and looked at his new friend questioningly as she turned to walk away. She called back after him, "Call me sometime, short stuff!"

He unfolded the slip of paper and discovered a phone number. Quite confused and not realizing he had just received the old woman's digits, he shrugged and continued on his way through the park. Splinter began to wonder if there was somewhere he was supposed to be at that particular time.

Further down the path, something wonderful caught Splinter's eye, and he sprinted toward his new destination with renewed fervor…all thought of other things vanishing.

* * *

**Back with four turtles and two humans looking for a rat…sounds crazy, doesn't it?**

After tireless hours of searching the afternoon away, the weary group re-gathered to assess the situation at April's apartment.

Collapsing on the couch, Leonardo released a heavy sigh and threw his arms up into the air in frustration. "We've looked everywhere. What do we do now?"

Mike gave a laugh and said, "Wow, Leo…without an answer? What is the world coming to?"

His elder brother frowned at him sternly.

Mikey paced around the room. "I dunno, bro…wait until there's a report from an animal shelter about a giant mutated rat?"

His was answered with several glares from those in the room. "Or not…"

"So Don didn't find him back at the lair?" April asked.

Leo shook his head. "No, he said he wasn't there. He just called before we got back here; Don is on his way back over here."

Collapsing into a chair, Casey inquired, "Where's Raph at again?"

"He's doing one last sweep of some of the main streets on the Shell Cycle. He said he would call if he found anything," answered Michelangelo.

"So…to repeat my question…does anyone have any ideas of what we should do now?" Leo questioned.

As if in answer, Leonardo's Shell Cell rang and the blue-clad turtle scrambled to answer it. "Hello?"

"Leo? It's Raph," came from the other end.

"Yeah?"

"I found Master Splinter…"

"Really, where?"

"You're not going to believe this, but…"

_tbc…_

* * *

_A/N: Once again, many apologies for the delay! I'll try to be swifter with my next update. That's all for now…ja ne: )_


	21. Rockin' Rat

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. Blah, blah, blah.

_A/N: This chapter is for Askre! I think he needs a laugh, and hopefully, this chapter delivers that._

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Rockin' Rat_

Day 21 (_general pov_) continued…

* * *

_Previously…_

"Leo? It's Raph," came from the other end.

"Yeah?"

"I found Master Splinter…"

"Really, where?"

"You're not going to believe this, but…"

* * *

After finishing his conversation with his red-clad brother, Leonardo looked around at the expectant looks of those present in April's apartment. 

"Well?" April asked impatiently.

Leo placed his Shell Cell back into his belt and stood. "Raph found him."

"All right!" Mikey exclaimed. "Where is he?"

Leo shrugged. "Raph wouldn't say…he just gave me the address. Let's head downstairs and wait for Don. He'll be back in a few minutes, so he can take us in the Battle Shell."

Casey scratched his head. "Do you guys want us to go with you?"

With a shake of his head, Leo said, "No, we'll be fine. Right now we just need to get Master Splinter back to the lair with as little a commotion as possible."

"If you're sure, Leo," Casey said. "But you know April and I always do a great job in the distraction department."

"Thanks, but we'll be alright," Leonardo replied.

As the two turtles made their way out the door, April called after them, "And don't do anything else stupid! You hear me?"

Running down the stairs, they heard Mike call back, "Can't make any promises!"

Outside, the leader and jokester waited patiently for their brainy brother to arrive. A few moments later, Donnie pulled up and arched an eye ridge in surprise as his brothers piled into the vehicle.

"I take it we know where Master Splinter is?" Donnie questioned as he sped away from the antique shop.

Mikey nodded. "Yup, Raph just called. 'Cept he wouldn't tell us exactly where sensei was, just the address."

"I wonder why he would do that?" Donatello pondered out loud.

In the front seat beside him, Leo crossed his arms. "No clue, but something tells me it can't be good."

"So where to?" Don asked, switching lanes to go around a slow driver.

"Raph said to go to 1260 6th Avenue," Leo recited from memory.

Mikey spoke up. "Isn't that between West 50th and 51st?"

Donatello thought for a moment and his eyes widened. "I know where we're going…"

* * *

Across the street from Radio City Music Hall, Raphael stood upon a rooftop, pacing impatiently. Twenty minutes ago, he had seen his rat master enter the building when zipping by on the Shell Cycle. The short-tempered turtle could not understand why his master had entered the building to begin with.

Master Splinter had been wearing a pathetic disguise, nothing more than a trench coat and fedora, when he followed a tall, blonde woman into the building. It was beyond Raph as to how the woman his sensei had been speaking with could not tell he was a giant, mutated rat! How does anyone miss something like that? But then again, this is New York City we're talking about.

Raph continued to pace and watch the entrance for any sign of movement. He would have gone in after the rat himself, but thought it best not to create a disturbance by forcefully removing Master Splinter from a popular NYC tourist attraction. Where were his brothers?

As if in answer, an armored car came barreling down 6th Avenue and stopped in front of the building. Raph's Shell Cell began to ring and he flipped open the device. "Up here, Leo."

Down below, Leonardo glanced around up at the surrounding buildings and spotted his sai-wielding brother atop the building across the street. Shortly, the four turtles were reunited, and they all looked at Raph, waiting for an explanation. They noticed their hotheaded brother glancing nervously at Radio City.

"Please tell me he's not in there…" Donatello began with a worried look upon his face.

Raph gravely nodded. "Yup, saw him go in about 25 minutes ago now."

"Aw, shell…" Mikey sighed. "Why would he go in there?"

"He was talking to a tall, blonde women with legs that went on for days and…" Raph stopped himself as he noticed Leo's disapproving glare. "Er, anyway, he went inside with her."

"But why?" Leo asked, exasperated.

Raphael was beginning to lose his patience with the situation. "How the shell should I know?"

Michelangelo stepped forward and stood between his arguing, older brothers. "Looks, dudes, let's just be thankful we know where sensei is," he pointed out.

Donnie nodded. "Mikey's right…"

"For once," Raph added.

"Hey!" The orange-clad turtle let out as he crossed his arms.

"Forget that," Don muttered as he looked out across the street. "It's after hours for this place to be open, so all we have to do is wait for Master Splinter to come out."

Leo frowned. "I guess the plan is to wait then…"

All four turtles settled down for a stake out.

* * *

_**Inside Radio City Music Hall…**_

Master Splinter sat patiently in a chair located in a back office. The nice woman, who said her name was Charlotte, said she would return in a few moments. He swung his short legs back and forth, his feet hovering a few inches from the ground. He could feel his tail twitching in irritation beneath the trench coat at having to be cramped and concealed within the coat.

Looking around at the room, Splinter picked up a magazine…something called Cosmopolitan…and absently flipped through the pages (ooo, what a pretty dress!) trying to recall how he had gotten here.

_A while earlier…_

After parting ways with the nice old woman in the park, Splinter had seen a woman practicing--what appeared to be from a distance--ninjitsu. She had long, wavy blonde hair and headphones in her ears. Curious, the old rat walked closer down the path to observe the strange movements of the slender woman. Bouncing about, no doubt in beat to the music she was listening to, her leg kicked high into the air, almost to her face! Splinter had never seen such flexibility and skill! He had to learn from this superior warrior.

Unabashedly approaching the woman, Splinter stood before her, waiting for her to notice him. As she opened her eyes, which had been closed in focus, the woman let out a gasp as she didn't hear or see the small person in front of her approach.

"Oh my, you frightened me," she said, removing her earphones and putting them in her bag in the grass beside her.

Splinter bowed his head in apology. "I am deeply sorry. It was not my intent to frighten you, miss."

With a soft smile, she said, "That's alright, dear. Was there somethin' you wanted?"

"I was wondering if you could show me how to do that kick you just executed a few moments ago," Splinter inquired.

A bit taken aback at the strange request, she laughed. "Well, it's kind of tough if you don't have the proper trainin'. And no offense, um…"

Splinter noticed her unspoken thought. "My name is, um, Sam. And I understand what you are trying to say, miss. Let me assure you, while I may appear to be old, I've still 'got it,' so to speak."

In demonstration, Splinter leapt toward a very low branch of a nearby tree and cracked in clean in half. Understandably stunned, the woman was speechless.

"Er, I…uh, wow, Mister Sam," she stuttered. "That was amazin'. And you can stop callin' me 'miss.' Charlotte is just fine."

Nodding sagely, Master Splinter said, "Fine, then…Miss Charlotte. May I ask again as to where you learned to kick like that?"

Charlotte shook her head in disbelief. When she left Jersey to come to the city to dance, she never imagined meeting as many strange people as she had. This peculiar man definitely topped that list of strange folks, but the small man seemed nice for the most part, so she decided to give him a chance.

"I'm a Rockette," Charlotte stated proudly.

"A Rockette? What type of clan is this?" Splinter asked curiously, stroking his chin in thought.

"Clan? Um, well, we're a group of dancers that performs across the country, but we're best known for our show that we do during the holidays at Radio City Music Hall."

"I see…and this is where you received your training?"

"Yeah, some of it."

"How would one go about becoming a…Rockette?"

Embarrassed, Charlotte answered, "Well, if you're talkin' about you, I don't think that's possible."

"And why is that? Have I not shown a demonstration of my abilities?"

"Well, yeah, but the Rockettes are women. And there are lots of requirements."

"Such as?"

"For starters, you have to be between 5' 6" and 5' 10"…and how tall are you, Mister Sam?"

"I haven't a clue."

"'Kay, well, I don't think you're that tall. And you have to demonstrate proficiency jazz and tap. Can you dance?"

"My sons have told me I have a 'dancing handicap.' I do not know what that means, but it has the word dance in it…"

"Right…" Charlotte trailed off. "I just don't think bein' a Rockette would suit you well, Mister Sam. I'm sorry."

With a sad nod of his head, Master Splinter frowned. "I understand, Miss Charlotte. Thank you for your time."

As the rat turned away to head back down the park path, Charlotte took pity on the small, strangely active and nimble, old man. "Wait! Mister Sam, wait!"

Ears perking up beneath the fedora, Splinter turned back to the blonde. "Yes?"

"If you're really interested in bein' a performer at Radio City Music Hall, there may be somethin' else I can help you with," Charlotte offered with a smile. "We'll have to head over to Radio City before it closes though to get the info. You up to a short walk?"

"I'd be honored," Master Splinter replied as he and Charlotte walked side by side out of the park, making quite the comical sight.

_Back to the present…_

So here he was, waiting for the nice woman to return. Splinter wondered what she was doing, but soon received his answer as she came back into the room with a handful of papers.

Charlotte crouched down to the same level as Splinter and showed him the papers. "You may be too small (and male) to be a Rockette, but you could still audition to be one of the 'Little People.'"

Intrigued, Splinter said, "Please, go on."

"Well, in addition to needing Rockettes, we audition children and little people. You'd be great for that!"

"Are there requirements to be a member of this clan?"

"Just a few…how 'bout you read it over, and I'll be right back with somethin' for you to put all that stuff in."

Lost in thought, Splinter barely nodded as he read the paragraph Charlotte had highlighted for him.

_**LITTLE PEOPLE PERFORMERS** must be under 4'10" tall, agile, move well to music, and be able to project their voice and personality. Auditioning is preferred but **LITTLE PEOPLE PERFORMERS ONLY** may submit a video by mail. **(Send to MSG Entertainment, 1260 Avenue of the Americas, New York NY 10020, Attn: CAA Production. No video or headshot/resume submissions will be accepted for any other performers.)** _

Splinter was jubilant! He met many of these requirements…he was fairly certain Donatello had told him he was near 4' 10", and he was certainly agile. Moving well to music? Well, he supposed he could have Michelangelo show him some dance moves. And Raphael was good at shouting…he could teach Splinter how to project his voice! And Leonardo could…well, he'd think of something for his fourth son. Perhaps he could help design a performing outfit for him…so long as it wasn't pink…

Charlotte came back with a folder and placed the information sheets into it. Leading Splinter back to the entrance, she bid her small friend farewell.

"Bye, Mister Sam! I hope to see you in May at an audition!" Charlotte shouted as Splinter left the building.

With a wave of his paw, Splinter called back, "Yes, thank you, Miss Charlotte! You're very kind to an old man."

Whiskers twitching happily, the ninjitsu master hugged the folder tightly to his chest, and continued walking down the street…until he was abruptly pulled into a parked vehicle!

"Unhand me! I can take you all!" Splinter yelled, as he thrashed his cane about into anything it came in contact with.

Michelangelo and Raphael attempted to restrain their father as they dodged his swatting walking staff.

"Sensei, calm down! It's us," Leo said as he placed a hand on his rat master's shoulder.

Opening his eyes and glancing about the Battle Shell, Splinter stopped his wild movements. "Oh…why did you not say something, my sons?"

Shaking his head, Donatello started the vehicle and began the drive back to the warehouse.

"Jeez, sensei, we were worried sick about you," Mikey began, once everyone had been buckled in.

"Whatever for, my son? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Master Splinter chastised.

Raph sighed. "But sensei, we didn't know where you were."

"Sheesh, don't get your mask in a twist…" Splinter muttered.

"What?" Raphael shouted, immediately restrained as Mikey placed a hand on his shell.

Leonardo tried to reason with their master, who was acting rather juvenile sticking his tongue out at his red-clad brother. "We were all worried about you, sensei, but let's just forget about all of this and get home."

Splinter nodded and turned his head away to look out the window. The family continued to travel in silence.

Don cleared his throat and asked the question they were all thinking, but were afraid to ask. "So, Master Splinter, what were you doing in Radio City with that woman?"

* * *

_A/N: Hehe…uh, yeah. Thanks for being patient, everyone. There's chapter 21…and it only took me (looks at calendar and turns red with shame) 8 months and 45 days! Please don't hurt me…_

_Just a few notes about the info. in this chapter. The requirements listed to be a Rockette and a Little People Performer is all true. (I did my research.) And according to the ninja turtles Web site, Master Splinter is, indeed, 4' 10". If I have made an error somewhere, please feel free to correct me._


	22. Okay, That Was Strange

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. Blah, blah, blah.

* * *

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_Okay, that was strange…_

Day 22

Log Entry 10

It's been six days since my last entry, and for good reason, too. Just when I thought things couldn't get any stranger around here—it did.

My brothers have strange, hidden obsessions that I've been sworn to keep secret. Mikey with his bad dance moves and singing. Raph giving a fake acceptance speech to an imaginary audience in the warehouse. And Leo having a tea party with his dolls and flamingo acquaintances. All leading up to the "Search for Master Splinter," as I've dubbed it.

We actually lost Master Splinter. We have got to be some of the worst ninja ever. Who loses track of their elderly father? Moronic turtles, that's who.

What's worse is April is still mad at me…if anything, she's angrier now, but at least she's mad at my brothers, too. Casey was taking shots at our family's delicate situation, which I'm told, Leo and Raph took care of. And Master Splinter has an attitude problem.

Have I left anything out? Yikes, it sounds even worse written down.

So here I am, sitting in my lab, mulling over my thoughts and notes from today and the night before, wondering what to do. Everyone else is in bed, but I don't feel tired. Well, maybe not physically. Mentally, I'm quite exhausted.

My brain hurts…

It reminds me of the time Mikey had a fever when we were thirteen. It was getting to dangerous levels when my dear little brother began to mutter his brain was melting. I sort of feel like that right now. A large clamp is squeezing my head…tighter and tighter and tighter…

Before I know it, it's going to explode.

Once we retrieved Master Splinter from Radio City Music Hall, we called Casey and April to let them know he was safe. Utterly fatigued, we trudged back into the lair with a cranky rat in tow. He kept insisting how he was fine and that he could take care of himself. The rest of the evening contributed greatly to my current headache as well; it unfolded as such:

"My sons, you're all being foolish. I was fine on my own up on the surface," Master Splinter said argumentatively as he plopped down on the couch with remote in hand. "I was blending in perfectly."

Raphael snorted and snatched the remote away from our father. "Yeah, right. Sensei, you were talkin' to humans in a less than convincing disguise. And worst of all, we were worried sick about you! You didn't leave a note or nothin'—not even a phone call!"

Snickering, Mikey elbowed Raph in the plastron. "Geez, Mom, didn't know you could go into mother hen mode like Leo."

"Shut up, Mike," Raphael growled, reaching out to swat our annoying little brother, who narrowly escaped.

Rubbing his forehead, Leonardo let out a tired sigh. "Guys, we're all tired, so let's just get some rest. Especially you, sensei. You need to get to bed."

"No way!" Splinter protested. "The Game Show Network is having a marathon!"

"Master Splinter, you're going to bed, and that's final. Go to your room, and I'll bring you a cup of tea in a little bit," Leo ordered.

"But…"

"But nothing. Go."

Stubbornly, the ninja master hopped off the couch and trudged to his quarters, tail dragging forlornly behind him. Before shutting his door, he stared longingly once more at the TVs, then cast a glare at Leo.

"This is so unfair. I'm going to hate you forever!" And with that, he slid his door viciously shut with a harsh click.

"Think you were a little harsh, Leo?" I asked my oldest brother, looking after Master Splinter.

"No, Donnie, not really. He's been acting so strange lately," Leonardo said shaking his head.

"Yeah, when did Master Splinter become more angsty than Raph?" Michelangelo chirped in.

Raphael's eyes narrowed in a glare. "I swear, Mikey…one more comment and I'll…"

"Raph, come on. Stop it. I'm going to make some tea, bring it to Master Splinter, then head to bed. I suggest you three do the same," Leonardo cut in.

And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen. Sighing, I placed my things on my desk, collapsing into my chair. Michelangelo dramatically fell ungracefully onto the couch, moaning. And groaning…

"Ugh, I feel awful…oh the humanity!"

Getting the hint at the prompt, I asked, "How awful do you feel, Mikey?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck. Running around the city took a lot out of me."

Raphael's eyes widened. "Hey, that's right. Don, Mikey wasn't supposed to be running around. Remember the controls of your experiment? No exercise."

Bolting upright in my chair, I slapped my forehead. "Aw shell, I'm such an idiot. How could I have forgotten? This could ruin the whole experiment. We might have to scrap the whole thing."

Shaking a finger, Raph said, "Oh no, we've come too far to stop now. No big, I'll just go make him somethin' to put back on some fat and calories."

"It needs to be pizza, though," I reminded him.

My sai-wielding brother merely shrugged and gave me a wicked grin. "Is the blender clean?"

"Yeah, I think so, but why would…?" I trailed off, thinking of his question's implications. "Ew! Raph, no more pizza smoothies. It's disgusting."

Mikey perked up, having only caught that part of our conversation. "What's disgusting?"

Grabbing our orange-clad brother's wrist, Raphael pulled him up off the couch and bolted toward the kitchen with him in tow. "You'll find out, Mike!"

Blinking, slightly stunned, I tried to keep the image of Raph's kitchen creations out of my head. Deciding to enjoy my free quiet time alone, I sorted through a few of my files on Experiment Pizza to try to get a few things in order. I had planned on only working on it for ten minutes, but ten minutes turned into twenty, then thirty…

Leo came out of the kitchen with a hot cup of green tea and headed for Master Splinter's room. He cast a wary glance back to the kitchen. Noticing this, I asked him, "What are they doing in there?"

"I don't know, but what I do know, is that I don't want to see Mikey eat it. I don't think my stomach can handle it."

Upon reaching Master Splinter's door, Leonardo tried to slide open the door, but met resistance. He tried again. No luck. Letting out a frustrated huff, he got my attention once more.

"Don, is this thing jammed again?" he asked, turning to look at me over at my desk.

"It shouldn't be. I just fixed it last week. Though he might have jammed it when he slammed it shut," I suggested.

"Hmm…" Leo let out thoughtfully. "Oh well. Master Splinter, I've got your tea. Can you let me in, please?" He said with a knock on the door.

Our sensei answered through the door, "Who is it?"

Looking at me confused, Leo replied, "It's Leonardo, your son…"

His response shocked us both.

"Oh, you? Go away! I'm not speaking to you ever again. You ruined all of my fun!" he shouted back through the door.

Unbelievably stunned, my blue-clad brother dropped the mug full of tea, and it shattered into tiny pieces across the floor. "What?" he whispered, full of disbelief. "He can't mean that…can he?" he said to himself more so than me.

Curling his hands into tense fists, I saw him begin to visibly shake as confusion and hurt turned to anger and irritation.

Rising from my chair, I started to walk up to Leonardo to try and calm him. "Now, Leo…I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, and—" I began, only to be cut off, as I so often am.

"You know what? Fine! Be that way. Stay in there and don't come out for all I care! Maybe then you'll learn some respect for others," he yelled. Clumsily gathering up the broken pieces of the mug, he stomped off back into the kitchen.

I stood in the middle of the lair, trying to figure out just exactly what had happened. It seemed so…wrong…so backward…so…strange. That was weird.

Not two minutes after his irate exit, Leonardo came sprinting out of the kitchen. He was unable to hold back a spit up of vomit on the floor, stopped himself, took a few breaths, and then continued his rush to the bathroom. The rest came up after barely managing to make it to the bathroom as he threw up the contents of his stomach. Wincing as I listened to the less than appealing sounds of my older brother emptying his stomach, I grabbed my observation notebook to find out exactly what was happening in the kitchen. Wrinkling my beak at the sight while stepping over Leo's, um, mess, I wondered what Raph was feeding Mikey.

Maybe Leo was right…maybe I should have just gone to bed. Instead, I decided to stay dedicated to science and my project to see just what my other brothers were up to.

I'm an_ idiot_.

Upon entering the kitchen, I can honestly say, I had never been more utterly horrified and disgusted. Just thinking about it makes me want to do what Leo did tonight…pull out a sleeping bag and crash in the bathroom, just to be closer to the toilet.

Raphael sat happily at the kitchen table with the camera, documenting every minute of repulsive pizza-eating action. As Raph explained it to me, they had pulled out a carton of vanilla ice cream and left over cold pizza. Throwing the pizza into the blender with many scoops of ice cream, they mixed the two into a strange pizza ice cream. It may not sound too bad, except that particular left over pizza had mushrooms, pepperoni, and ham on it. Ham? Pepperoni? Mushrooms? In ice cream? No thanks. Cold dairy, that isn't cheese, mixing with pizza ingredients is just wrong. A crime against nature, if you will.

So there sat Mikey, merrily eating spoonful after spoonful of pizza ice cream. I stared for them at a moment before uttering one question. "Why?"

Raph looked up at my nauseated face and said, "Why not? Hey, your face kind of looks like Leo's did before he—"

He never got to finish because I sprinted out of the kitchen to make a run for the bathroom with Leo. However, I wasn't looking where I was stepping because, yes, you guessed it. I slipped. In Leo's puke on the floor.

I fell on to my shell hard with a resounding crack echoing through the lair. Groaning, I felt the urge to get sick rise again as I realized what I had fallen in. Rolling over and pushing myself off the ground, I, too, continued my sprint for the bathroom. Upon reaching the bathroom, Leo was currently occupying our porcelain friend, so I had no choice, but to utilize the bathtub.

As I released my meals of the day into the tub, I heard Leo moan painfully in acknowledgement of my sickness. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him give a feeble wave. Closing my eyes, feeling nauseous once more, I heard a snicker behind us in the doorway. Struggling to sit up and turn around, I was met with the sight of Raphael and the video camera in my face.

"This is just too easy, guys. Priceless," Raph said with a triumphant smirk.

Leonardo raised his head as well. "I'm gonna kill you, Raph. Soon as I'm done here…"

Laughing it off, Raphael said, "Right, Leo. Whenever you manage to scrape yourself off the bathroom floor, you and Donnie here can kill me. Bros, seriously? What's up with these weak stomachs? You can handle blood, but not a little food concoction?"

Unable to answer, I merely opted for halfheartedly kicking him. "Hey, where's Mikey?" I asked.

"Hmpf, he passed out in the kitchen. I guess our little day trip in the city did wear him out pretty bad. The junk food probably didn't help."

"You know, that wasn't really pizza. It was mostly ice cream, and the experiment is supposed to be only pizza," I pointed out, managing to reach out to the faucet to turn on the water to wash away the former contents of my stomach from the tub.

He shrugged, "Whatever, Don. It had pizza in it. Good enough. Consider the ice cream a topping for the pizza."

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I shakily stood. "Fine, but this is the last freebie in bending the rules of the experiment. Just pizza from here on out. We're almost done."

"Yeah, yeah," Raph said as he walked away from the entrance of the bathroom. "See you guys in the mornin'."

"'Night, Raph," I called after him. Looking back at our leader on the floor, I asked, "You need anything, Leo?"

"Yeah, my sleeping bag. I don't think I'm leaving the bathroom any time soon."

And thus ended the…interesting…events of the evening. I grabbed Leonardo what he needed, cleaned up his mess in front of the kitchen, somehow dragged Michelangelo to his bed, and sat down to write out this entry.

My stomach is still feeling a little queasy, but I take solace in the fact that I'm doing better than Leo. I think he should only eat crackers tomorrow...away from Mikey and his pizza mealtimes. It's just safer for all of us that way.

I wonder if Master Splinter will come out of his room tomorrow. I still can't figure out what's going on with that situation. Maybe rats go through something similar to a human woman's menopause? Hey, anything is possible for mutants, right?

I'm tired now. I miss my bed. And I think my bed misses me.

* * *

_A/N: I know, I know, it was a long time coming, but here it is. Sorry if it was kind of dry, it's sort of a filler between the "Search for Splinter" action and the next mishap. Also, I officially decided since this has gotten so crazy, it may be considered a parody, as well as fitting in the humor category. More to come soon, I hope. My finals start tomorrow, but then sweet Winter Break! Thanks for reading. Ja ne!_


	23. These Guys Are Pathetic

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. Yeah, that's a bummer.

Quick note: Any dialogue in italics is someone on the other end of the phone. Okay, proceed!

* * *

**The Price of Pepperoni**

_These guys are pathetic._

Day 23

"Dude, check out the projection of the vomit!"

"I know! If his eyes weren't closed, you'd think he was actually aiming for the toilet."

"Gross, look at the splatter…"

"That's not the worst of it…wait for it…"

"Nothing's happenin', Raph. Leo just pukin' his guts out into the toilet."

"Wait for it, bonehead. Do your ears work, or are they just there for decoration?"

"Hey! Shut up, you—"

"Quiet! Here's the part!"

"…"

"Well?"

"Man, that is the sickest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe he slipped in Leo's puke. Why'd Donnie throw up in the tub?"

"'Cause the toilet was occupied, genius."

"Oh, right. Hahaha."

"Hey, what are you guys watching? Oh gross! Raphael!"

"Ow! What was that for, April?"

"For exploiting the stomach troubles of your brothers. And no doubt you were the cause of their illness."

"No, Mikey was."

"But who made him his food?"

"…"

"She's got you there, Raph."

"Shut it, Casey."

"You two are so juvenile. Please tell me you're done watching this?"

"Nope, Raph brought over five more hours of footage! Isn't that great, babe?"

"Oh yes, thrilling."

"Wanna watch with us?"

"As enticing as that sounds, no thanks."

"You wanna make me a sandwich then?"

"…"

"Ow! Okay, okay! Forget I said anything."

"That's what I do most of the time when you speak, Mr. Jones."

"Hehehe…hey! Now you're hitting me, too?"

"Quiet, turtle boy. Let's just watch the footage."

As stimulating as the conversation had been with the two hooligans in her apartment, April shook her head in distaste and turned to finish cleaning the dishes in the kitchen. Raphael had come over a few hours earlier to have lunch with the human couple, as well as to share his precious, disgusting movies of his brothers being idiots. Not that that excluded the hot-tempered turtle from her labeling of 'idiot.' Just the thought of that stupid, silly experiment was enough to flare her temper again.

Rubbing viciously at a dish with a sponge, April blew a stray, silky strand of hair away from her face. Stupid Donatello and his stupid ideas! This experiment was certainly screwing up their family, as well as straining her relationship with the turtles. Most infuriating of all, they lost their elderly father. Sure, the rat knew how to fight, but that was beside the point. He was clearly in no condition to be wandering the streets of NYC alone! And if Raph's description of their dear father's behavior was any indication, April wasn't sure if he was completely all there recently.

Moving on to drying the dishes, the red head let out a sigh. Why couldn't things be normal for a while? You know, the Foot hanging around, aliens invading, or maybe getting zapped to an alternate dimension. What? Those things were bliss compared to a deranged rat and four irresponsible teenage turtles moping about with nothing better to do with their time than to torture one another. April finished drying and began stacking the kitchenware.

Reaching for one last glass to return to its place, the woman let out a gasp of surprise as she saw a shadow fall across her own. Spinning around and letting the glass plummet to the floor to shatter, she found herself face to face with a pair of assailants. Frantically feeling behind her for some sort of weapon, she brought forth…a skillet! She raised it high above her head in a threatening manner. The two Foot ninja shared an amused glance, only to yelp as April struck them both over the head with the skillet.

"Ouch! Get off you crazy woman!" yelled one ninja as April continued assaulting him with the cookware.

"Get out of here, you creepy, smelly Feet!" April scolded.

The other ninja grabbed her wrist and wrenched the skillet from her grasp. "It's the Foot, wench! And we have very good hygiene, thank you!"

Without her skillet weapon, April resorted to beating them with her fists. She felt one of the ninja grab her around the waist from behind. "Casey! Raph! Help! There's Foot ninja! Casey! Ra—"

And with that, they knocked April unconscious. As she slowly slumped in their arms, the pair of assailants froze, worried her companions had heard the ruckus in the other room. They placed the woman on the floor and prepared for an attack, waiting for them to spring.

And waited…

And waited…

And waited…

April's attackers warily looked at one another. One motioned for the other to keep quiet and crept around the corner to peek into the room. The turtle and vigilante were asleep, drooling and snoring loudly on the couch as a scene of another turtle licking the grease puddles off of a pizza played on the TV. He suppressed the urge to throw up at the sight, and the black clad figure returned to the kitchen. He muttered to himself, "These guys are pathetic." His partner had the red head heaved over his shoulder, waiting patiently.

"Well?"

"They're asleep. The idiots."

"They didn't hear that racket?"

"Guess not. Let's get out of here. We wouldn't want to keep the others waiting."

* * *

**Hours later…**

_**Ring. Ring.**_

_**Ring.**_

_**Ring. Ring. Ring.**_

_**Ring!**_

"Yeesh, what?"

_"Hello to you, too, sunshine!"_

"Shut it, Mikey. What do you want?"

_"Well, Raphie, O Fearless Leader wants you back in half an hour. It's getting late, and you wouldn't want to miss your curfew."_

"Very funny, shell-for-brains."

_"You have fun grossing April out?"_

"Yeah, it was hilarious. Me and Case fell asleep though. Don't know how long we been out."

_"You guys are so lame. So can I tell Leo you'll be back to the lair soon?"_

"Yeah, I'll be back soon enough. What's for dinner to—"

"Raph, who's on the phone?"

"Hold on, Mike. Casey, will you be quiet?"

"Pft. Fine, be grouchy. April? April! Raph's bein' mean! You in the kitchen?"

"I'm outta here, Case. Fearless wants me home. Where's April? I wanna say goodbye."

"Raph, we got a problem."

"Aw, shell."

_"Raph! Raphie! Still on the phone, remember? What's goin' on?"_

"Mikey, tell Leo we gotta save April."

_"Save April? From who?"_

"The Foot. They're back."

_"Dude…wait. How do you know it's the Foot?"_

"They left their calling card."

_"Oh, you mean the Foot symbol?"_

"No, they left a business card."

* * *

_A/N: That was fun to write! I also apologize for the shortness! Not quite the way I originally had this chapter planned out, but hey, whatever. Hope it wasn't too hard to follow the beginning and the ending because it was just dialogue and no attributions—wanted to give that type of writing a quick try. Thanks for readin'! Ja ne!_


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